The Blue Bloods
by TheQuietGem
Summary: Hogwarts is under attack by a secret group called the Blue Bloods... Letters that pour blood onto mudbloods turn up at Hogwarts, yet this is only the beginning. This a 6th Year alternative book and was written before reading books 6 and 7. Enjoy!
1. Sixth Year Beginnings

Chapter I: Sixth Year Beginnings 

            "Sirius, what's for breakfast?" Harry asked as he scrubbed a pan full of greasy crust.

            A dark-haired man turned around wearing a dingy robe and showing his bare feet. He cupped his hand into the bubbly dishwater and splashed it into Harry's face. A coating of soap oozed down Harry's forehead and then plopped down onto his lips. After wiping it off, Harry laughed.

            "Oh, hilarious. You're supposed to be feeding me, not washing me."

            "It's never too late to bathe you, Harry. A young man like you is filthy. More soap in that mouth of yours should do it," Sirius replied and dipped his hand again into the water.

            In return, Harry grabbed a dishcloth and smacked Sirius's ass. He yelped in pain, yet did not seem mad at all. Rather, he smiled and ran his soapy hand through Harry's hair, making it stand up on ends like a Muggle cowlick.

            "I'm gonna get you for that one!"

            Silver jelly hidden in a cabinet bowl was thrown across the room, missing Sirius's head entirely. Right before Harry could toss another chunk of sweets, Sirius ran over and grabbed the bowl. Slowly, he poured the substance onto Harry's head, blending it into the soap nicely.

            "Now, what were you asking about before? Ah, yes, breakfast. You're wearing it."

            "Get up, Harry."

            A woman towered over Harry's bed. Within a few seconds, Harry realized the room around him was none other than his bedroom in Dursley's home. He tugged on his thick blanket and pulled it over his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sirius's face once again. He had not seen his face since the funeral earlier in the summer and even then, his face was cold, bluish and numb.

Aunt Petunia nudged Harry once more and then pulled off his blankets. She shook her head and nagged at Harry's slob appearance. Harry mumbled 'ten more minutes,' under his breathe and continued mumbling it until his aunt left the room. As Harry rolled over, he caught sight of an owl pecking at his window.

Harry rolled out of bed and fell onto the floor with a loud thump. Petunia ran back up the stairs yelling, "What did you break?" Any normal parent would be referring to a bone but she was clearly talking about her precious furniture and vases.

"Nothing, _I'm_ fine, thank you," Harry said lowly as he dragged his tired body to the window. Using one of his limp arms, he pulled the window open. The owl then dropped a paper onto Harry's head and flew off. In large letters on the front page read 'The Azkaban Trials'.

            "Today, seventy-eight known Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban Prison. Among these wizards and witches included Bernard Shawd, Calypso Elba and Marina Vendetta, three members of the Ministry of Magic. When associates of their families were questioned, Miss Elba's sister responded and I quote, 'We had no idea. It was her ex-husband who convinced her to do this. Imprison him!' Our researchers have informed us that Calypso's husband was none other than Theodore McGonagall, the brother of a Professor Minerva McGonagall at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He too will be questioned shortly, and will most likely be found guilty."

            "I can hear you from down here! Shut up!" Mr. Dursley screamed from the downstairs kitchen.

            Harry threw the newly reformed Sunday Prophet onto his bed and sluggishly slumped back into his bed. He sighed to himself and pulled the covers back on. Summer was almost over, but it was a much better summer than he had ever had before. The Dursley family barely spoke to him with the exception of a few shrieks here and there. Dudley was sent to a boarding school, and it seemed that Aunt Petunia was more into the wizard news than ever before.

            Actually, Harry only knew this because every time he left a copy of the Prophet on the downstairs' kitchen counter, it mysteriously disappeared.  Later in the day, Harry would find it in Petunia's bathroom next to the lavender sink and powdered make-up. Perhaps she just wanted to check up on Harry's friends, or perhaps she really was interested in what was happening in the magical world. Well, she still didn't believe that Voldemort was dead. Harry would hear her in the middle of the night cry to herself about the end of the world coming. Yet, he never could mention it around her.

            And so, with only one week before school would start up again, Harry read the news intensively. Every title spoke about the Death Eaters and each article revealed new names and connections. Brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces and nephews of famous wizards and witches were blown up with bold lettering each day. 'So and so revealed to be related to a Death Eater just recently sent to Azkaban…'

            "Oh, Pig," said Harry as he spotted Ron's owl sitting on his windowsill. Its head perked up and chirped when it recognized the Ron's best friend. In its beak was a thin envelope stamped with the red letter R.

            "It's about time."

            Harry snatched the letter from the bird's beak and read it to himself. 

            "_Dear Harry,_

_I am still boarding with Fred and George in their joke shop. The small room they've given me isn't home at all, but it sure beats living with Ginny. She won't stop talking about you. Man, does she have it bad. I've missed you and Hermione._

_ I don't have very much time to write this. There are a dozen customers downstairs, and Fred and George need all the help they can get around here. Business is booming, especially since school is starting soon, and everyone wants to get prank supplies. _

_Don't be so gloomy. I know you, and you're thinking about how lucky I am. Well, it's not all fun and games. Just the other day, Fred punched me right in the nose. Right in my bloody nose! And it wasn't a joke! He was really angry that I lost a customer. It wasn't my fault, honest. All I did was fall on one bag of bleeding beetles, just one._

_Anyway, I'll see you soon! Don't be late for the Express! If you're even a minute late, I will have to send a search party, meaning my dad's car and me again. Ok, I got to go. George is calling me. Miss ya, mate.  Bye._

_                                                                                     See ya soon,_

                                                                                                **_Ron_**"

            Harry placed the letter down on his desk and sighed to himself. Despite the fact that Ron was being treated as his brothers' slaves, he still felt jealous that Ron was actually doing something more exciting than him. Even Hermione, who was taking summer courses in advanced subjects, seemed to be doing more thrilling things than Harry.

            The remaining week of Harry's vacation was a bore. Aunt Petunia hid in her bedroom while Uncle Vernon went to visit Dudley at the summer boarding school he was sent to (and it cost a pretty penny too). Everything was quiet, everything was silent, and everything was dull as ever.

            "Harry," Aunt Petuntia whispered though the bedroom door on the day Harry was to leave for Hogwarts.

            "Yes?"

            "Time to go. Open the door and get your things."

            Harry unlocked his door with a thick rusty key and let his Aunt in. Immediately, he dragged out a wide trunk under his bed and pointed to a few scattered books. Hedwig was still with Hermione at her summer residence hall somewhere in Ireland; she wanted to use Hedwig in a course of hers, and she promised to bring her back in one piece. And so, he didn't have his feathery little friend to talk to all summer, making it very hard for Harry to come to terms with what happened only a few months ago…

            "Your uncle isn't home, so I suppose I will must drive you to that Hogwart's Express of yours."

            For the first time, he heard his Aunt mention the name Hogwarts. Perhaps she was acting nice because Uncle Vernon was not around or perhaps she matured a bit over the last year. In either case, Harry enjoyed the change.

            "Right. I'll be right down. Oh, Aunt Petunia?" She turned her head slightly. "I never thanked you."

            "For what?"

            "For listening to Dumbledore last year and keeping me here. I would have died if you didn't keep me here. No, really, thank you. And you're being quite different this summer. In a good way I mean."

            She nodded her head as if she understood and walked out of Harry's bedroom without saying a word. Harry soon followed with his trunk toward the bucolic Dodge humming on the outside driveway. In a short while, he would be on the train to Hogwarts.

            Harry had already bought his books this year. He got them as soon as the list was sent, because the Dursleys would never remember to take him to Diagon Alley. He had to go by himself one night after lying to the Dursleys about his whereabouts. It took him almost an hour to convince them that he was going to return some library books that were overdue and that they'd have to pay the fine for him if he didn't go. Luckily, the family was asleep when Harry had returned so he was able to hide the books under his bed. And so, Harry packed his belongings into the car, sat down in the passenger seat and watched as the twitching hand of Aunt Petunia placed the silver key into the ignition.

            The neighborhood seemed distant after a good hour, and neon city lights blinded the sky in ravishing pollution. Monstrous buildings shadowed the roads as if they were shielding Harry. When they finally arrived at the train station, a few dozen new wizards were strolling out from a new building, small and plain. They all seemed so delighted to be there and scared as well.

Just as Harry diverted his attention from the crowd, he noticed Aunt Petunia unloading several items tied to the roof and even starting dragging them toward Platform 9 ¾. One of the young wizards was there and raced into the wall quickly. Petunia jolted a bit at the sight of it.

            "Thanks again. You can see me off if you want."

            Petunia hesitated and looked over at the wall. "No, that is quite all right. Go on now."

            Harry figured as much. He pushed his cart forward and rammed into the wall at full speed. Within a second, he had broken through the barrier and was watching hundreds of young and old wizards screaming at each other. Many did not know where to go while others greeted familiar faces.

            "Ron! Told ya I'd make it!" Harry shouted to a red haired young man a few feet away. Ron turned around gradually and revealed a freckled, sore face yawning.

            "Oh, Harry. It's jolly good to see you again, mate. I'm sorry about being a Prefect again…" Ron picked up his shiny badge and shoved it in front of Harry's face.

            "It's okay. We'll still have some classes. I'll see you then sometime on the train."

            Harry and Ron nodded and went their separate ways. The middle part of the train was full of returning students who waved their arms to welcome Harry back. After Harry entered the compartment, he found himself sitting with Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley and a new face.

            "Missed us?" Ginny smiled as her two white front teeth glistened, and she leaned forward toward Harry's face. She had grown at least three inches since last year, and her lips tended to plump more when she talked.

            "Of course. And you are?" Harry asked the young man sitting to the left of Ginny. His dark brown hair was coiled and gelled down all over the place. He wore thick, red glass frames and had a very tattered robe.

            "Chester Peter Corryton," he said in a nasal voice. "My nickname is Chad. This is my first year."

            Harry couldn't help but laugh at his voice. After a few seconds, he uncapped his mouth and nodded his head. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry Potter." He waited for the boy to gasp and awe at him, but he did nothing.

            "He's half Muggle, Harry," Ginny said.

            "Oh, so you never heard of me I guess."

            Chad shook his head and stared at Luna. He smiled slightly. "Who are you?"

            "Me?" Luna said as she looked up. "Luna Lovegood. But some people call me Looney!" Her eyes darted back to the book on the paranormal.

            "That's not very nice," Chad said and left the side of Ginny. He ran over to Luna who was already sitting next to Neville and stared at her.

            The rest of the train ride was quite silent. Neville played with his cactus plant while Luna read her book. Chad stared at Luna, Ginny stared at Harry, and Harry thought to himself in a daydream about what his 6th and almost last year at Hogwarts would be like.

            When the train arrived at Hogwarts, Harry escaped the compartment as fast as he could. He looked around when he got outside and saw Hagrid leading in the new students. Hermione and Ron spotted Harry and waved.

            "It's here already," Hermione said in glee. "Another year at Hogwarts. Oh, Harry!" She hugged his body and beamed. Over the summer, she filled out with shapely curves and her hair was more auburn than before.

            "Come on now. It's time for the Sorting House Ceremony," Ron said as he pried the two apart.

            "You two go ahead. You're still Prefects. I'm gonna go see Hagrid."

            Harry left his two best friends and approached the half giant. A crowd of young students gathered around him near the lake and seemed frightened by his appearance. When Harry came closer, Hagrid howled and clapped his hands.

            "This is Harry Potter!" Hagrid shouted. A few wizards gasped and one witch giggled to her friend. Another young wizard rolled his eyes and whispered,

"He's not Harry Potter."

Hagrid gave out a loud sigh of disbelief and then turned back to Harry. "Would you find showing them your, yeh know…"

            Harry lifted his hair as his scar appeared. "Happy? Look, I really want to talk to you, Hagrid."

            "If it's that important to yeh. I s'pose I'll cut this short," Hagrid replied in his deep, hoarse voice. He pointed the students to the select Prefects who would gather the young wizards together so that soon Hagrid could take them on the boats to the Great Hall. After all the new students were gathered off to the side, Hagrid turned to Harry and began walking side by side with him in circle.

            "Harry, what's the matter?"

            "I, well, keep thinking about Sirius. I know he's dead. I have to accept it; but, I feel this pit in my stomach that just won't go away."

            "I'm afraid it may never go away, Harry. Of course yeh are sad. Yeh should be, but don't let it keep yeh from doin' what yeh want. When I was a lad, my best friend went an' died."

            "I never knew that, Hagrid."

            "Well, I never told yeh. He was a Hecklespot Lizard. I know it's not the same as a person, but I loved 'em as if he were. One day, I found him next to me in bed, completely still."

            "Well, what did you do?"

            "I buried 'em of course!"

            "No, I mean afterward… To get rid of that sinking feeling?"

            "Oh, well, I didn't do nothin'. Time healed me I guess."

            Harry sighed and looked over to the brick wall. "How long do I have to wait? A few weeks, a month, a few years? I don't think I can concentrate on school when all I see is his dead, dead face!"

            "Don't yell about him, Harry. Even though yeh are angry, the dead can hear yeh."

            "How the hell do you know that? Have you ever been dead, Hagrid? No? Then, you don't know what the hell you're talking about."

            "I know that yeh can be angry with 'em for the wrong reasons. He didn't abandon yeh, Harry."

            "I never said he did!"

            "But I know that's how yeh feel."

            "I thought you would help me. Ugh."

Harry rolled his eyes and ran off toward the Great Hall, tripping over his dragging robe. Hagrid unhurriedly followed him and sighed.

            "He'll get better… At least I hope he does."


	2. Death Eaters' Escape

Chapter II: Death Eaters' Escape

            "Mercy, no," Mister Weasley shouted as he entered the Ministry of Muggle Artifacts. He slammed the Daily Prophet onto the desk of a lofty woman with long yellow hair and a black, v-neck dress.

            "Calm down. What is all the fuss about?"

            He pointed at the front page of the newspaper. Covering most of the sheet was a photograph of a large group of hooded figures. They stood outside a dark and dreary castle that pierced its surrounding sky with black.

            "Oh, for goodness sake. It's just Azkaban Prison. I've seen dozens of pictures of it before," the woman said as she scanned over the front page.

            "Turn it over, woman!" he yelled and flipped it over for her. "Right here!" He pointed at a rather bright article filling up most of the paper. In red, huge letters it read,

**"Voldemort's Followers"**

            When the woman read the words out loud, she immediately wrapped her slender fingers over her lips. She couldn't believe they would actually print his name, but they did. And that was not all. As her eyes looked into the article, she read it,

            "The number is now ninety-nine. They have all been sentenced to life here at Azkaban Prison. With the final trial set, it seems that almost all of the Death Eaters have been captured including Lucius Malfoy. Every day we are uncovering more traitors; however, many readers are concerned that there are still Death Eaters gathering. We have no positive source of this rumor, and we are dismissing it as just that, a rumor.

            Tomorrow, two more traitors may be sent to Azkaban. The last group includes Justine Yellowbird-Corryton and Theodore McGonagall (didn't we tell you! You see, we do not lie). They have been accused of aiding Voldemort; yes, we said it again, Voldemort. When questioned Theodore about this accusation, he responded and I quote,

            "Ludicrous! I am a noble wizard who would never do such a thing. My political standing is none of your business, but I never did nor will aid _Him_. Now, get that thing out of my face!"

            There you have it. 99 confirmed Death Eaters, and three more to go. Read tomorrow's article in which we will interview Justine Yellowbird-Corryton, 38 years old, single with one child, about her falling."

            Mister Weasley stood baffled next to the woman who read the article out loud. She sat down and stared at it blankly, letting her hair ruffle against her now reddened eyes.

            "I have two friends who have been convicted already," she said quietly. "And now, Theodore is being tried… He hasn't done anything!"

            "Yes, I know, Loretta. And it's not just that. Look around you," he said as he pointed at several empty cubicles. "Close to thirty people here are related to some one who is going to Azkaban. I am glad that some Death Eaters are locked away, but do you really think there are that many?"

            "No," she said lowly. "We could be next. We work with people related to _them_…"

            "Once you start thinking like those damn reporters, then you will be. Until then, we shall not give into this trash!" Mister Weasley shouted, grabbed the paper and tore it into small pieces.

            "His mum?" Ron asked, sitting at the Sorting Hat Ceremony.

            "Yes," Hermione whispered back.

            They both ogled as Chester or rather, Chad, sat down on the stool. The hat cringed and became to talk out loud.

_"Quiet you are and not so courageous too… _

_Brains you have but where to place you… _

_Young and clever you may be…_

_But heart of gold is what I see…_

_And so I must tell what I saw…_

_You belong in Ravenclaw!"_

Chad smiled and rushed over the table next to Gryffindor. As he passed by Ron and Hermione, they stared at him intensively. After the young boy sat down and made his new Ravenclaw friends, Ron turned to Hermione.

"Does he even know?"

"I think so," she responded. "I mean, well, his mom is being put on trial. Of course he knows."

"Yeah. Look, Harry's coming," Ron said as a disheveled Harry raced toward them. He parked himself next to Ron who asked, "Why so glum, mate?"

"I don't want to talk 'bout it, okay?"

"Alright, alright," Ron said, not wanting to seem too pushy.

Ron turned his red haired head back to the Sorting Hat. A very young girl with wavy silver hair and red streaks everywhere sat on top of the stool. Her face had a simple complexion with pale white skin and pale pink lips. She seemed rather scared about what the Hat was going to say.

_"A toughie we have here I see…_

_Slytherin is where you should be…_

_But not so dark as I would hope…_

_Perhaps another house you rope…_

_And so I say with nothing more…_

_You belong in Gryffindor!"_

 The girl jumped out of the stool and ran over to the end of the table. Whispers spread throughout the table until her identity finally reached Ron's ears. When the rumor was whispered into Ron's ears he shouted,

"Her name is Kimberly Hooch. Madam Hooch's daughter!"

Hermione laughed and so did Harry. They didn't think that Madam Hooch was even capable of bearing children; yet, obviously they were wrong. After a good thirty minutes, the remaining students were sorted, and the Gryffindors gained seven new students, some of which included Maybelle Radbury, Kimberly Hooch and Daniel O'Grady. Ron was in charge of taking the boys to the Gryffindor Tower while Hermione took the girls.

Harry was left taking no one since he was not a Head Boy or a Prefect. And so he sulked behind the rest, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. As he approached a painting of an elderly woman wearing a slinky purple dress, a boy's nasal voice squeaked behind him.

"Excuse me, Harry," Chad said.

"Why aren't you with your Ravenclaw buddies?"

He shook his head. "I got separated from them."

Harry sighed and looked over to his right. He saw the Head Boy of Ravenclaw leading a pack in the other direction. Quickly, Harry pushed the young boy in that direction and shouted,

"Keep better track of your newbies! Don't want another troll eating them! Remember last year? Ha!"

A few new students screamed, believing every cruel word. It was so much fun torturing and lying to the new wizards and witches. Especially since they were so naïve that they believed any upper class student, no matter how ridiculous they sounded.

"Thanks, Harry. Now, don't scare my group! You know that troll didn't kill that student, only put him in a coma!"

"Oh, yes, my mistake. I was thinking of that Dragon that was set loose throughout the building."

"Come on, Harry! You know that's not true! It was a Giant, not a Dragon. And only four students were killed that time."

"Yes, but three of them were Ravenclaws."

"Oh, shut up, Harry, I can't keep track of all of them."

At least Ravenclaw's prefect had a sense of humor. Harry chuckled at his comments and peered over at the first years that believed everything the two had said. It was fun scarring them for life. And so, after a good laugh, Harry continued on his way to the Gryffindor Tower. So far, nothing terrible occurred. Harry had actually stopped thinking of Sirius for a few minutes, making him realize that his whole year might not be a foreshadowed doom.


	3. Marcus Malfoy

Chapter III: Marcus Malfoy

            "Horrible!" Hermione shouted from the Gryffindor common room as Harry entered.

            "What's going on? What's horrible?" Harry asked, immediately jumping into the conversation whether his friends wanted him to or not.

            "Not a what, but a who," Ron corrected him. "Look at this notice!"

            He was tossed a parchment covered in black writing. Harry read it to himself slowly. "It says here that a Mister Malfoy will be directing the school as Head Minister of School Affairs. Not another Umbridge!"

            "Not exactly, but close enough," Hermione said. "If Draco's father is in our school, then he'll make sure Slytherin wins every and all events. I'm doubtful he'll have any power after the whole Umbridge incident."

            A new girl's voice interjected. "No. My mommy said it was a man named Marcus Malfoy. He's the brother of that man you're talking about."

            "Draco's uncle? Just as bad! Wait, how would you know that?" Ron asked.

            "'Cause I know all the juicy rumors before any of you do," she said in a snippy voice. "I am Kimberly Hooch. And don't you dare make fun of my mommy. If you do, I'll make you fail her class."

            Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed the girl aside. "All right, thank you. Move along."

            The girl obeyed unwillingly. Harry turned to Ron and laughed with him. "Looks like we'll have an inside spy this year."

            "Yes, and we'll need one if there is a Malfoy in charge around here!"

            "We shouldn't jump to conclusions. We don't even know the man," Harry inputted as she tried to push his nose into the business further.

            "He's a Malfoy. That's all we need to know, right, Ron?" Hermione asked.

            "Right!"

            "Wrong!"

            A man's voice entered the room. All of their heads swiveled to the doorway to see a man wearing dark blue jeans and black button down t-shirt. Black cowboy boots bearing a sliver of his ankle covered his feet. He certainly didn't look like any wizard that had ever seen before.

            "Oh, did I interrupt something? Carry on then," he said and swiped his blonde, long ponytail to his right shoulder.

            "Who are you? How did you get in here?" Hermione demanded.

            He sighed and cracked his neck. "The name's Marcus. Marcus Malfoy, but it seems most people here call me, oh let's see, bastard, evil, wretched man and Death Eater." He paused and stared at Harry. "I've heard much about you, young man."

            "What do you want from us?" Ron asked.

            "I am inspecting your room," he said slowly. "Things seem quite in order here. Upper-class students are abandoning their young classmates to discuss the big bad me." He paused and sighed. "Look, I don't want to be the bad guy here at all. I'm just an average wizard like many other teachers in this school."

            "Ha! Average wizard? You look like my dad, and he's a Muggle, sir! You aren't part Muggle, are you?"

            He shook his head. "Pure blood I'm afraid. It seems my family name is getting the best of me again. I must go visit the Hufflepuffs next. I hope we can meet again under more pleasant terms."

            As he left the room, Hermione glared at Ron and Harry. She shook her head wildly, letting her hair frizz on all ends, although it was much calmer than it had been many years ago.

            "He didn't seem too bad, Hermione."

            "Too bad? He's Draco's uncle, Harry, so don't forget that. He's most likely a spy. I do not trust him at all."

            "Listen mates, stop arguing. Let's not judge him _yet_. We really should be showing the new kids around."

            Hermione nodded to Ron and headed off to the separate sides to talk with all the new wizards and witches. They again left Harry alone. He sat down next to the fire and stared deeply. After the groups left the room, Harry whispered to himself,

            "If only you could just pop up, Sirius… If you're watching me now, somehow, guide me through this school year… Make sure everyone's all right, okay?"

            But the fire did not respond. No face at all appeared. Harry waited, staring intensively. Flickers of yellow, orange and lilac purple sparked and swirled inside gray smoke that lifted away. But Sirius was not there.

            "Damn you!" Harry shouted and chucked a log into the blazing flames. "You won't even help me now! To hell with you!"

            Harry kicked a pile of logs over. He then reached over to the oval table and grabbed a silver pitcher. A thick current of water flowed onto the flames, extinguishing the fire and any belief Harry had of his godfather returning. Slowly, Harry dragged his sobbing body into a lounge chair and dropped his reddened head onto his folded arms as the fire completed died out.

            "Sirius, what's for breakfast?" Harry asked as he scrubbed a pan full of greasy crust.

            A dark-haired man turned around wearing a dingy robe and showing his bare feet. He cupped his hand into the bubbly dishwater and splashed it into Harry's face. A coating of soap oozed down Harry's forehead and then plopped down onto his lips. After wiping it off, Harry laughed.

            "Oh, hilarious. You're supposed to be feeding me, not washing me."

            "It's never too late to bathe you, Harry. A young man like you is filthy. More soap in that mouth of yours should do it," Sirius replied and dipped his hand again into the water.

            In return, Harry grabbed a dishcloth and smacked Sirius's ass. He yelped in pain, yet did not seem mad at all. Rather, he smiled and ran his soapy hand through Harry's hair, making it stand up on ends like a Muggle cowlick.

            "I'm gonna get you for that one!"

            Silver jelly hidden in a cabinet bowl was thrown across the room, missing Sirius's head entirely. Right before Harry could toss another chunk of sweets, Sirius ran over and grabbed the bowl. Slowly, he poured the substance onto Harry's head, blending it into the soap nicely.

            "Now, what were you asking about before? Ah, yes, breakfast. You're wearing it."

            "Mister Potter, please wake up," a man's voice entered his mind.

            "What?"

            Harry reopened his eyes to find himself in the Gryffindor common room. He was never with Sirius, just dreaming about it. Before he realized it, he had been asleep for over three hours.

            "Malfoy?"

            "Yes. I came here looking for you actually," Marcus Malfoy responded as he tugged Harry's wet robe. "Upset?"

            "No. Why?"

            "You're covered in tears."

            "I splashed myself."

            "Oh, right. Well," Marcus fixed his shirt and tried not to enter Harry's privacy. "I just wanted to talk about my nephew actually. Strictly confidential."

            "So you want me to be your little spy? Well, forget it! Get one of Draco's friends to blurt all his secrets. Try Crabbe or Goyle; they seem to be his boyfriends."

            "Nonsense, Harry," he said and for the first time, used his first name. "I want to know if he's been bullying you. One of my duties is to report misconduct between students, and if I know my nephew, which I do, he's been bullying you and several others."

            "Yeah, well, what are you gonna do about it? And how the hell do you keep getting in here? We have a password you know!"

            "I will do whatever I can to make his behavior stop. Oh, and I know the lady portrait quite well… I dated a relative of hers," Marcus chuckled and looked over at the wry face of Harry.

            "Lighten up, young wizard. Your classes start tomorrow, and I will be keeping an eye on you."

            After he left the common room, Harry immediately jumped up and searched the Gryffindor Tower for Ron and Hermione. However, neither of them was around. Perhaps they were still showing the newbies around or had left for food without Harry. In either case, Harry's stomach growled, and so he changed into a clean robe and hurried off to the Great Hall.

            When Harry arrived, he spotted a dirty owl sitting on top of the Gryffindor Table. In its beak was a letter addressed to "Hermione Granger". However, it was way past delivery hour, and Hermione most likely would not get it unless the bloody owl stood there all night. And so, Harry grabbed the letter from its beak, and it took off out an open stain glass window.

            "Should I?" Harry asked himself as he stared at the small envelope. Just as his hands were about to open the seal, he heard footsteps behind him coming closer and closer…


	4. Loathsome Threats

Chapter IV: The Loathsome Threats

            "Hey, Harry," Hermione said as she approached.

            He turned around and smiled. "Just who I was looking for. An owl just flew off and dropped this letter addressed to you."

            Hermione squinted her eyes, causing a crease to run in between them. "For me? I wonder who it could be from."

            "Open it! Go on," Harry said as he pushed the letter into her hands.

            Her soft, light skinned fingers pricked the ends of the paper. As they did, sparkling gold fluttered upward and surrounded her body, spiraling and twisting all around. A low, unfamiliar voice echoed out.

            "Mudblood!"

            The word repeated and grew louder each time. Suddenly, the golden flakes flickered into red and brown. They expanded in size and fell thick into Hermione's hair and face. It looked as if it was thick blood.

            Harry quickly grabbed the floating letter and threw it to the ground. When he did, the red chunks disappeared, leaving a crying Hermione covered in brown blotches. Her teary eyes glanced over to Harry and then, to the enchanted letter.

            Without saying a word, although her face told more than any words could, Hermione raced out of the Great Hall. Following her was Harry both concerned for his best friend's well being and for the demon that sent that letter in the first place. Finally, Harry reached the girls' lavatory where he entered without thinking. Luckily, no one else was in there at the time.

            The weeping from Hermione was easily heard. Quietly, Harry tiptoed in front of each stall until the moans became very clear. At the third stall, Harry knocked on the door and shouted,

            "Hermione?"

            A weak voice responded. "Go away!"

            "No, not until I help you out."

            "How? Was that some sick joke of yours?"

            Harry scrunched his nose at the thought of it. "Of course not. You know I would never hurt you. Please, let me do, well, anything."

            The door swung open, and Hermione stood there covered in thick patches smeared by her tears. "There's not much you can do except…"

            "What?"

            "Well, bring that letter to Professor McGonagall for me. I'm sure she can find out who sent it."

            Harry nodded. "Sure. I'll do that right now. Are you sure you don't need any help washing that stuff off?"

            "No. I'll be fine. Please leave."

            Without saying any more, Harry left Hermione all alone, all confused and all in tears. He hurried back to the Great Hall, and fortunately, he found the parchment on the ground where he had thrown it. Gently, he rolled it up and ran his aching legs toward the Professor's office. When he arrived, he tapped on the door and peered his head inside. McGonagall looked up slowly and smiled.

            "What can I do for you, Harry?"

            As he approached, he unrolled the letter and extended it toward the Professor's hands.

            "Hermione just received it."

            "But, it's just a blank piece of paper."

            Harry's mouth opened wide. "No, it spoke before! And it sent this sparkling stuff all around Hermione!"

            "Calm down, young man! Now, what did it say?"

            "It said 'Mudblood' over and over. Then, the sparkles turned into this muddy stuff and I think blood itself. Hermione's in the bathroom now trying to clean up."

            Professor McGonagall looked closely at the paper as she listened to Harry. She then sighed to herself. "I can't do anything with this. Whatever spell was used has finished. But whatever Ms. Granger was covered in… Perhaps that could help."

            "By now she may have washed it all off," Harry said.

            "Then, we better hurry!"

            Professor McGonagall leapt out of her seat and rushed out of her office with Harry by her side. They ran down the hallway as fast as they could until they reached the bathroom that Hermione was in only a few minutes ago. However, Harry heard no crying whatsoever.

            As they entered, Hermione was not at the sinks. Nor was she in any of the stalls. Harry darted his head all around but found no trace of her. Suddenly, McGonagall yelled, "Look!" and pointed at a sink full of brown sloth.

            "That must be the stuff," Harry said, and as he was about to touch it, Professor McGonagall pushed him aside.

            "Don't contaminate it, dear. Let me collect it." And with that, she took out her wand and shouted, "Conferrius!"

All the small and large dots started to reform and gather mutually. After they fused together, a lump of what looked like an uncooked liver sat in the middle of the sink.

McGonagall then shouted, "Caperate!"

A glass jar appeared, and the substance slithered inside of it. She then picked up the bottle and turned to Harry.

"I will have to look into this myself. Now, Harry, please go find Ms. Granger. She may be questioned soon about this."

And so Harry nodded and left the girls' bathroom once again. He headed to the Gryffindor Tower in hopes of finding Hermione. For the first day of school, this was simply awful. And actually, Harry felt incredible guilty, because he was happy that someone else was suffering for once and not him.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted as he approached the Gryffindor Tower. However, he didn't see her anywhere. He turned to the lady painting guarding the common room and asked, "Have you seen Hermione?"

"Her my oni? I do not understand."

"It's a person!"

"No, I have not seen anyone; I just watch several students every second and simply do not see them."

"Seriously."

"I am," she said and chuckled in return.

Harry rolled his eyes and shouted back the password, "Maddy Muffy." After the doors opened and he entered the room, he didn't spot any one. Everything was in its place with the exception of a burnt out fire and an empty bucket of water…

            "Welcome, new faces an' old!" a hoarse voice shouted across the Quidditch Field. "Today is yeh're first class of the new Magical Creatures' Course. Some of yeh I know really well," Hagrid said as he stared at Harry and Ron. "And some of yeh I don'." He paused, glaring over at a Hufflepuff girl. "I assigned the book called Killinger's Autobiography: A Tale of Beasts. Yeh all have it?"

            Several people nodded and turned their heads back at Hagrid's large torso. In return, Hagrid smiled and said, "Good."

            Slowly, he reached down to an invisible cage and seemed to be fiddling with it. Suddenly, after yanking at it, he pulled off an invisibility cloak and revealed a yellow-furred creature. Its four legs barely supported its thick belly that was a crimson color. Two beady black eyes stared at the crowd of students as it bobbed its head chaotically.

            "That is called a, Hermione!"

            Ron arched his eyebrow. "That thing is called a Hermione?"

            "Nah, nah," Hagrid said as he motioned his eyes toward a frizzy hair girl that approached the group.

            "I'm sorry, Hagrid. I'll explain in a bit." Hermione asked as she found her place next to Harry and Ron.

            "Very well then. As I was sayin'… That there is a Jenklecat."

            "I've heard of those before," said Ron in an unhappy tone.

            "They're kind creatures," Hagrid reassured. "Just don't feed it any meat."

            "Why not?"

            Hagrid coughed and quickly responded, "Oh, they tend ter grow a taste for it and other kinds… Any other questions?"

            Harry raised his hand.

            "Yes?"

            "What does it do exactly?"

            "Good quest'on. This fellow is used ter fetch items buried in the ground. They have a keen sense of smell."

            A few nods scattered across the crowd of students. As Hagrid reached down to open the cage, the Hufflepuff girl squeaked,

            "Won't it attack us?"

            Hagrid shook his head. "Nah. He's harmless."

            Just as he was about to unlock the cage, Professor McGonagall rushed onto the field. As she ran, her hat tipped over to the side, and she had to constantly rearrange it. She then approached Hagrid with a wry face.

            "I'm afraid I must borrow two of your students," she said and turned head toward Hermione and Harry.

            "Oh, right now? Do yeh have to?"

            She nodded. "Yes. Mister Potter and Miss Granger, please come with me."

            When they both left the field, the sounds of kissing and oh's followed them. Both rolled their eyes at it and accompanied their Head Master to her office. When they arrived, she sat down her thick chair and waited for Harry and Hermione to settle down as well.

            "There has been another incident regarding the enchanted parchment."

            Hermione's eyes bulged out a bit at the news. "Who? When?"

            "Miss Laura Kane."

            "Who's that?" asked Harry.

            "She's a new Hufflepuff," Hermione pointed out.

            "Yes, Miss Kane, I'm afraid, has been encased in the material that only fell in pieces on you, Miss Granger. She is in the hospital wing right now."

            "What is that stuff? Who's sending it?"

            "We don't have the answers yet. Right now, Professor Snape is examining the material and will have an answer for us shortly. As to whom… It seems the parchment is sent with a certain time period. After so many seconds pass by, the enchantment frankly disappears."

            "What about the owl?" Harry asked.

            "What owl?"

            "There was an owl that delivered Hermione's letter. Maybe if we follow it, we can find out who sent it."

            "Good idea. I'll get someone on that right away. Now, I want you two to keep quiet about what is happening."

            "Why?" Hermione protested. "Other people of non-magical blood must be warned. Next time it could be much worse."

            "Hopefully, there will not be a next time," the professor said.

            "You don't know that for sure."

            "I agree," Harry said. "We should warn others."

            "You will do no such thing," McGonagall shouted. "We will not bring any media attention to these loathsome threats… Not now anyway. Return to your classes you two."

            Without saying another word, Harry and Hermione left McGonagall's office staring at each other with puzzled looks. In their first two days of school, at least two threats were sent that had been at least somewhat harmful. The next one could even result in death…

* * *


	5. Shady Meetings

Chapter V: Shady Meetings

            "Hermione, do you think this has something to do with the Death Eaters? They hate Muggle-borns and with all the news about them—"

            "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. There is no way any of them could have access to the mail delivery. However, what if there are more Death Eaters? Or perhaps a friend of theirs?"

            "Maybe. What about that Marcus Malfoy? Isn't it strange he just comes here right when his family is being persecuted for being Voldemort supporters?"

            "Yes… Listen, Harry, I'll look into this Marcus fellow. I want you to start reading all the news articles and listen to as many conversations around the school. If McGonagall won't investigate then we have to."

            "Right. Where are you going?"

            Hermione spun around, letting her frizzed hair gently curl beneath her shoulder. She pointed to a library book in her hand and twitched her eye to the right of Harry. Quickly, she ran off in the opposite direction, leaving Harry standing outside McGonagall's office.

            "Potter, may I speak to you?" the Professor's voice cracked wryly.

            The gray-haired witch poked Harry's right shoulder and tugged him slightly backward. Before he responded, she trotted back into her office and waited for Harry to follow her lead. As he entered once again, fire snapped around him from flickering candles that melted down their rims. Each one puffed a different color and chocked the air with toxic smoke.

            "Ignore them; they are just hungry," McGonagall advised, sitting in her chair once again. "Harry, dear, I must be honest with you."

            "Why not with Hermione?"

            She sighed and released her left palm grasping her upper lip. "I'm afraid it regards her and others like her."

            "You mean other Muggle born wizards and witches?"

            She nodded. "I already sent notice to the owl mail services before speaking with you. That loathsome letter was sent from," she paused and stared at a miniature version of the castle on her desk, "Hogwarts."

            "How can that be?" Harry asked.

            "Either someone is playing a rather disgusting practical joke or something… Never mind. Harry, I want you to promise me you won't go investigating this event. If the person responsible for these threats is in Hogwarts, we don't want them doing anything foolish because of your prying. Do you understand?"

            Harry nodded, but knew Hermione was already doing the research. He didn't want to make a promise that he couldn't keep but that was exactly was he was doing.

            "Yes. Um, Professor… You never mentioned your brother… I'm sorry, but it's in all the news and—"

            "It's quite all right. I have had many questions asked of me lately. Go ahead."

            Harry hesitated, and then asked, "If Theodore, that is his name I believe, goes to Azkaban, will you still be teaching here? Is he really a supporter of Vol—"

            "Heavens no, don't even suggest it. My brother is a kind old fool mixed in with the wrong crowd. He would never support _Him_, but that won't stop the law from doing its injustice. He is in Azkaban Prison now and won't be coming back for a long time."

            "I'm sorry."

            "For what? You didn't send him there, dear. Now, if there isn't anything else, you may go."

            Harry turned away and headed out the door whispering, "I did send him there. I sent all of them there…"

            As hours passed by, Hermione struggled through thick textbooks encased in horrid dust and mildew. Anything or anyone that hated Muggles was on her list of suspects. She started writing down names and groups with invisible ink. On the top of the list was Malfoy, knowing fully well they supported _Him_.

            Slowly she scribed the name Black. Not Sirius of course, but his relatives were known to hate anyone with impure blood. As she continued listing the surnames, a nasal voice interrupted her concentration.

            "Very interesting," the boy said, making Hermione jump slightly out of her seat.

            "What do you want?"

            The red-glassed boy peered over at the blank piece of parchment. "What are you hiding?"

            "Nothing," Hermione snapped back. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"

            He shook his head no and grabbed the paper away from Hermione. After a few seconds, he tossed it back onto her table. "You better not be doing anything bad."

            "Ha! Are you threatening me, Chad, is it?"

            "Oh no, never would I threaten a Prefect. Merely, well, I am concerned."

            Hermione's eyebrows lowered from their angry position. She motioned forward and peered into Chad's eyes. Something was different about his face than earlier before. It was much more pale, although quite white already.

            "I don't like my House very much. They played a rather mean prank on me." He paused and scratched his arm. Gradually, he rolled up his torn right sleeve and revealed a horrible maroon rash, puffed out and bumpy. It spread from his wrist up to his elbow and seems to stop the blood flow underneath it because the surrounding skin was bright red.

            "They did that to you? How? When?" Hermione questioned staring intensively.

            Chad turned his head and checked the area before responding. "About an hour ago. I was in my new room, unpacking my things, when I saw a silver light outside my window. Curious, I went over to it and found a note."

            "A note?"

            "Yes, just a piece of paper. I picked it up, and it floated in the air. Then, I heard a voice mumble something, but I couldn't understand what it said. Suddenly, black liquid dropped onto my arm and ate away the cloth that was there. I screamed and when the other Ravenclaws came to my room, they laughed at me."

            "Are you sure they did this to you?"

            "Who else could have done it?"

            Hermione's heart pumped faster. Perhaps this was just a prank, but it sounded so much like what had happened to her… A note, a voice and an unknown substance… Abruptly, Hermione closed the book she was looking at and raced toward the exit of the library.

            "Wait! You aren't gonna tell on them, are you?" Chad asked in the background.

            But, Hermione didn't respond to him. Instead, she rushed out of the library very quickly and ran down the corridors with her face red, hair a mess and several thoughts flowing through her mind.

            "This sounds serious," Ron said as he petted Pig's ruffled neck.

            "Very. I know Hermione is researching now. If Professor McGonagall catches her, she may get in deep trouble."

            "She'll have a whole lot more to worry about if these threats continue."

            "You're right," Harry responded and sighed. "That reminds me. Have you seen Hermione?"

            "Probably in the library… Or not…"

            Ron's head tilted toward a young lady rushing into the Gryffindor common room. She rubbed her hands through her already puffy hair and glared her confused eyes over at Harry.

            "There's been another threat," she muttered.

            "To you?" Ron exclaimed.

            She shook her head. "No, to Chad from the Ravenclaw House."

            "I didn't know he was part Muggle."

            "Neither did I," Hermione went on, "until he came up to me in the library and described to me what happened to him just a few hours ago. Look, it won't be long until another threat appears at this pace."

            "Hermione, McGonagall talked to me after you left. She doesn't want us prying ourselves into this mess."

            "A little too late for that! She's hiding something and just doesn't want us finding out what it is."

            "You've never accused a professor liked McGonagall of hiding something… This isn't like you," Harry said.

            "It's not like me to be called Mudblood and then covered in," Hermione's voice tightened, making it hard for her to continue.

            "What are we supposed to do?" Ron interrupted.

            They turned to each other, thinking about whom they could trust. Dumbledore obviously was the first choice, but he would tell McGonagall. They couldn't tell other Gryffindors since they were the upper class wizards now and didn't want to make them fear. Hermione suddenly looked up as if she had an idea.

            "What is it?" Harry asked.

            "This may sound strange, but I think we should ask Professor Snape for help. He knows a great deal about potions and should have analyzed the brown substance from before by now."

            "But you guys told me that McGonagall didn't want others to know. Why does Snape know?" Ron asked.

            "Good point, Ron. Maybe she thought about telling others before, but changed her mind. In any case, Snape could see Chad's arm and make a logical reasoning to what is happening. He's quite smart."

            "Smart?" Harry laughed. "Oh please, Hermione. You could figure out a hell of a lot more stuff than he could ever."

            "In time, I might, but we don't have that luxury right now. I'm going to Professor Snape's office. Are you two coming with me?"

            Ron nodded his head, but Harry shook his. Hermione rolled her eyes and murmured a 'fine' under her breathe. She grabbed Ron by the collar and hurried off to Professor Snape's office. Harry was left alone in the common room, reflecting what was happening.

            "Shush."

            Harry heard a man's voice from the distance. He looked quickly outside the door but saw no one in sight. As he moved back into the room, he heard it again, yet much more scarce. Gradually, he limped toward the window and spotted three men in black robes underneath a canopy. The opening faced Harry's window, and in a panic, he ducked so he would not be seen.

            Rising a few inches, Harry peered through a little crack just above the windowsill. He tried to make out the men he saw but most of their faces were covered up. As he studied the man talking, he noticed pointy cowboy boots poking out from underneath the floor length robe.

            "Marcus," Harry whispered to himself as he continued searching for the identities of the others.

            The man on Marcus's right was a little bit taller with long blonde hair falling from his robe. A glimmer of the man's blue eyes made it clear that it was Lucius Malfoy. Had he passed his trial already? Harry asked himself. Perhaps… And the third person was much shorter than rest. He or she's back was turned to Harry now, so he could get any good details.

            "What are you looking at?"

            "What?" Harry turned about quickly to see Kimberly Hooch.

            "I said what are you looking at?"

            "Oh," Harry paused and looked back to the window. The three robed wizards were gone. "Nothing. I was just thinking."

            "I don't believe you," she said quickly as she hurried off to the girls' dorm rooms. Right after she disappeared from sight, Harry returned his attention to the window, frantically searching for the robed strangers. But there was no one at all.


	6. OWLS and Troubles

Chapter VI: OWLS and Troubles

            "They're coming today?" Neville Longbottom asked at the Great Hall table during breakfast.

            "Yes," Hermione responded, eagerly awaiting her results. "They should be here any second. Oh yes, here they come!"

            Hundreds of owls flew from the large windows and dived toward upper class wizards everywhere. Several thick envelopes sealed with the crest of each house were half encased in pancake syrup as they dropped into the breakfast plates. Hermione grabbed hers as fast as she could and ripped the top off of it.

            Six gold pins and two silvers fell onto the table. She eagerly picked them up and read the back inscriptions on them. The first read 'Outstanding' as did the other gold ones. There was another subject she passed but did not excel as greatly as the others. It was Divination. Luckily, she did not care about that one as much as her real courses; and so, she smiled greatly and gave Neville a kiss on the cheek.

            "Um, thanks, I guess," he said in a low voice, not really realizing what had happened. He slowly opened his letter. Only three silver pins fell out and two bronzes. He read the inscriptions, trying to figure out what classes he passed and ones he did not.

            "How did I fail potions?" he asked himself and smacked his head on the table.

            Hermione shrugged and turned to Ron who didn't even open his letter. He sat still and continued eating his breakfast as if the letter wasn't even there.

            "What's wrong?"

            Ron turned to Hermione and then to the letter. "If I don't pass everything, I don't know what I'll do."

            "Open it and you'll find out. I'll do it for you!"

            Hermione grabbed the letter and opened it. Ron pulled his head and tucked it into his robe, hiding his red face. But then, he heard the noise of metal drop. Several pieces of metal, and he knew he had to have at least passed most of them. Slowly, he lifted his head up and stared over at the pile of silver, bronze and… Yes, there were some gold ones as well.

            Ron jumped out of his seat and leaned across the table. He grabbed the two gold pins and grinned with felicity. Hermione gave a sigh of relief, happy that Ron passed his courses. She then turned to where Harry usually would sit, but he wasn't there that morning. A thick envelope full of pins sat on an empty plate, waiting to be opened.

            "Do you know where Harry is?" Hermione asked. 

            Ron shook his head. "Not sure. I saw him leave the dorm this morning though. Better give it to him." And with that said, Ron grabbed the OWLS results and tucked it into robe.

            "Professor?"

            "This is a pleasant surprise," a tall bearded wizard responded as he walked down the spiraling, yellow staircase. He played with his half moon spectacles and nodded a few times. "What brings you to my office?"

            "Well, I think Marcus is up to trouble," Harry blurted out.

            "Mister Malfoy? Whatever do you mean?"

            Harry sighed and looked about quickly. "Well, first, he keeps coming into the Gryffindor dorm room and said he'd keep his eye on me."

            "I know, I asked him to."

            "What?" asked Harry stunned.

            "Mister Malfoy was hired to be somewhat of a counselor. He will make sure that no student is bullied and that everyone is properly supervised. Is there anything else you wish to address with me?"

            Harry hesitated about revealing what he saw the other night, but he knew keeping secrets never got him anywhere. "I saw him with his brother and another person last night outside the Gryffindor Tower."

            "Explain."

            "I heard some voices, and when I went to the window, I saw three robed figures."

            Dumbledore rubbed his beard a few times. "Did you see their faces? Hear what they were saying?"

            "Well, no, not exactly. I saw Marcus's boots, and he has distinct shoes… And I saw Lucius's hair and eyes. It definitely was him."

            Surprisingly, Dumbledore laughed. "Mister Lucius Malfoy is standing trial. There is no way you saw what you think you saw."

            "I'm not lying!" Harry protested.

            "I have no doubt you saw something, but it was not Lucius Malfoy. As for Marcus, well, you didn't see his face. Do you have any other proof?"

            "No."

            "Then I'm afraid I cannot do anything on the mere speculation of three people standing outside the Gryffindor Tower. Now, I must go and deal with some other pressing matters."

            "The threats—" Harry started, but realized he may not know anything about them.

            "Threats? Well, I have heard about such things. I am to visit Miss Laura Kane in the hospital wing and question her. You may join me if you wish, but I do believe your OWLS results have arrived."

            Harry completely forgot about them. Without saying goodbye, Harry ran off toward the Great Hall in hopes of finding good results. As he ran, all he could think about besides the OWLS results was why Dumbledore didn't seem so concerned about what was happening. Within two days, three people received letters that hurt them in some way. McGonagall wanted to keep things quiet, Marcus Malfoy was snooping around and nothing seemed to make sense at all.

            "Well?" Ron asked after handing over to Harry the thick letter. Most of the Great Hall was empty, except for Harry, Ron, and few students here and there finishing their breakfast.

            Gently, Harry tore the top of the letter and turned it upside down. Five thick gold pins fell down, two silvers and one bronze… Ignoring his gold ones, he clutched the bronze one quickly and read what class he possibly could have done poorly in. Gold always meant Outstanding to Excellent, Silver meant Good to Adequate, and Bronze meant Weak to Very Poor. If you didn't get a pin, you didn't pass at all.

            "Figures," Harry said as he read the inscription noting his grade in Potions. However, he did pass, and he was delighted about that.

            "Knew you would do fine, mate," Ron said. "Where were you anyhow?"

            "Speaking to Dumbledore. Oh, don't worry! He already knows about the whole threat thing… But…"

            "But what?"

            "He doesn't seem so concerned as I thought he was. I don't understand why it seems acceptable to have a student hospitalized within the first two days of school."

            "It's not." But it wasn't Ron that responded. Instead, a deeper, manly voice interjected that Harry knew could only belong to one person. "You two do have classes don't you?"

            Ron stared at Marcus Malfoy wearing jeans and boots again. His hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and he wore a new badge stating his position as Hogwarts. Slowly, the man grabbed Harry by the collar of his robe and tugged him upward.

            "Let go of me," Harry muttered.

            "Mister Potter," he said in a low voice. "I advise you to stay clear of business that does not concern you. Matters are being dealt with swiftly. There is no need to make unnecessary, well, accusations."

            Just then, Marcus let go of Harry's collar as he caught sight of Professor Snape entering the Great Hall. Before Snape could see anything, Marcus turned around and ran off quickly. Ron helped Harry up and gathered all of their OWLS pins. Right when they were about to leave, Snape approached them.

            "Hello again, Mister Weasley," he said, reminding Harry that Ron and Hermione had gone to him the other day about the threats. "Mister Potter…"

            "What do you want from us?" Harry snapped back.

            Snape rolled his eyes. "Tisk tisk. Just when I was about to tell you about my discoveries."

            "Wait. Please, Professor, tell us," Ron begged, something Harry didn't expect he would ever do for Snape.

            "Very well then. I was intrigued to find that the chemicals used in the substance were not from my office supply; however, quite rare indeed. Miss Granger informed me yesterday that the letter came from inside Hogwarts. This troubles me greatly, and Professor Dumbledore has been informed about all of this."

            _So he did know,_ Harry thought. _Was he hiding something? Was everyone in part of some conspiracy? It might sound crazy, but it seems that all the teachers at Hogwarts are concealing a hidden truth._

            "Now, get to class. Both of you," growled Snape. Just when they turned their backs, Snape continued, "We never met here today."

            "That's odd," Ron whispered to Harry as they headed toward the doors. "Snape is on our side for a change?"

            "I don't know. But something is going on, and we're going to find out what."

            "Welcome to Advanced Astronomy," the centaur proclaimed as students took their seats. "Ah. Here comes a late student. Of course, everyone here already knows Mister Weasley."

            "Sorry," Ron spit out as he quickly found a seat.

            "Quite all right. Just your first day of this course and all."

            Puffs of air swirled out of the centaurs nose as he stuck it high up. The class quieted down and tried to balance themselves on the stumps of trees. All around them were maples, oaks, moss and fresh grass fielding everything wall to wall. The ceiling was a painting of the sky made of glass so that it could actually open up when needed. A black chalkboard lined the wall at the front of the classroom and written on it in white lettering were strange symbols.

            "This one here is called Herachio," the teacher said as he pointed to the largest symbol in the middle of the board. It had a square border and an eye in the middle. Five slanted lines crossed it and there were several little star markings in it. "Does anyone know what this stands for?"

            After some silence, a Slytherin 7th year student raised her hand and was called on. "It means Luck."

            "Very good. Five points to Slytherin. Now, you wonder why this could help you at all with understanding the stars. Well, Astronomy isn't just about locating a constellation in the sky, it's about the history behind them. These symbols represent stories and ancient times, recording where certain stars were and what they meant.

            "I am sure that all of you read your assigned reading. Oh, don't worry. There was no assigned reading. I don't want you to learn about the sky through books written by ancient wizards. I want you learn about the sky by seeing it, smelling it, knowing it. By the end of this year, I guarantee that each and every one of you will be able to identify at least one hundred constellations."

            Three girls giggled in the back row, distracting the centaur momentarily. He stared at them and started to gallop slowly toward them. As he reached their spot, he looked down to them and smiled.

            "You three seem to be very interested in each other's social lives. Stand up."

            Two immediately jolted upwards while one gave a sigh of disgust. Eventually, she joined her two friends and waited for her punishment.

            "Hillary Whitecorn, is it? From Hufflepuff? I knew your father. Daniel, correct? He was quite a loud mouth and not so bright. He always went on late night tours of the Forbidden Forest. I had to scare him away constantly.

            And you, Cho Chang from Ravenclaw? You find it necessary to blab about your crush, who was it, ah yes, Harry Potter. Oh don't be so shocked. I have superb hearing and that is why I cannot stand chattering in my class!

            Finally, Miss Pansy Parkinson. Don't like centaurs do you? Think I only eat grass and have a horrid odor? Let me tell you, you don't smell very good yourself. I recommend bathing once and a while."

            Pansy's face turned beat red as she tried to hide it in her robe. Cho and Hillary laughed at her, but tried not to do it for long. After the class settled down, the centaur continued his lessons. When it was over, Ron rushed over toward Cho and stared at her, giving her the look of 'So, you still like Harry?'

            She quickly looked away and hurried off to make sure Pansy wasn't completely mortified. After a few seconds, Cho disappeared from Pansy's side, hoping that another Ravenclaw did not catch her comforting the dreadful Slytherin. Ron tried to catch up with Cho but lost her down a corridor. He sighed and walked off to his next class of Advanced Potions, a class he dreaded very much. As he turned right toward a narrow passageway, he spotted something kneeling on the ground in the lotus position. As Ron approached, he realized it was a boy, most likely a first year.

            "Are you lost?" he asked. Yet, there was no response. He crept closer until he recognized the boy to be Chester or rather known as Chad. The boy wasn't moving at all, not a whimper, not even a breath.

            Ron poked him in the shoulder, and Chad's body sluggishly fell over to the side. Half of his body was covered in red rashes and some of them were cut open and dripping blood. It was an atrocious thing to see. Shocked, Ron screamed, alerting other students near by. A few wizards stopped and hurried over, each giving pale faces and 'ahs'.

            The group of six students, including Ron, carried Chad off to the hospital wing. It didn't take too long to get there, since students in the hallways tended to move to the side seeing Chad's injured, limp body. When they arrived, Dumbledore was standing over the bed of Miss Kane and questioning her. He turned his head seeing Chad and raised his eyebrows high.

            "Oh dear," he said in a deep voice.

            "Professor Dumbledore, he may be dead! _Now_ do you think others should be warned? What will it take? Another death?" Ron asked hysterically, concerned for other Muggle born wizards like Hermione.

            "I've already sent out notices. Classes will be canceled for the rest of today and tomorrow. There will be neither owl deliveries nor any kind of mail sent. Now, I want all of you to go back to your common rooms."  
            The group slowly left the room. They couldn't help but stare at Chad's body lying in the bed sheets now soaking up his blood. His skin was peeling off at the edges and half of his head was warped beyond measure. If this was what would happen to anyone who received a letter, Hogwarts would be losing a lot of students soon…


	7. Spies and Lies

Chapter VII: Spies and Lies

            Gryffindor Tower was swarmed with hives of students chattering. Some thought that there was another serpent loose. Others believed that Chad had died. But it was clear that something was terribly wrong. Hermione desperately tried to get the children in order, but it was quite hard. Similar problems occurred with Ron who could barely get a "be quiet" in without a student talking over him.

            Harry soon arrived with a few other Gryffindors who immediately ran over to siblings crying in the crowd. A loud clank alerted the Prefects and students that the doors were being locked by spells so that no one could leave. Although this would make them safe, it also made them paranoid that something was out there that could harm them.

            "Ron, is it true about, well," Harry said and then whispered, "Chad's death."

            In response, Ron shook his head, "Don't think so, mate, but not entirely sure. Oh, Ginny, don't cry!"

            The youngest Weasley, although not young at all, started to streak tears down her reddened cheeks. She brushed aside her very long red hair that now had blonde tips added to the ends of them. Ineffectively she tried to hold in her tears, knowing Harry was watching her in this emotional wreck.

            As Ron hurried over to her side, Harry strolled off toward the window that he had looked through earlier. No one was outside this time though. All Harry could hear were the whines, wails and woes of the Gryffindors crowding the common room. Hermione and Ron had started separating the older students from the younger and assigning students to watch over others. 

            However, one student in particular was not a part of the crowd. Kimberly Hooch approached Harry silently and grinned a devilish look. She had recently put on make-up, perhaps to impress Harry or someone else. Thick blue eye shadow crackled her lids and pearly gloss shined over her lips. A few swirls of rosy pink smeared across her round cheeks as a few strands of her now curled hair spiraled down top of it.

            "Hello," she said in a much sweeter voice than before. "See any invisible things again?"

            Harry rolled his eyes. "Is there something I can do for you?"

            "Yes," she giggled. "And it involves invisible things."

            Intrigued, Harry leaned forward as Kimberly started to whisper into his ears. "I'm going to sneak out of here."

            "That's funny. The doors are locked."

            "I have a master ball," she began, "that can open them. It's my mother's. I take it from time to time. But, I need your invisibility cloak that I've heard so much about. You can come with me if you want."

            "Where would you go?"

            "Anywhere but here. Is there a place you want to go?"

            For a second, Harry thought she was coming on to him. But, this was also his chance to see what was really going on with that Marcus fellow. Quickly, he nodded his head and ran off into the boys' dorm rooms. The chest containing his cloak was locked underneath his bed. It took him a few tries to open it, and when he finally did, his beautiful cloak shined through.

            He grabbed it and tucked it under his robe so that others wouldn't see it and get suspicious. Slowly, he tiptoed down the stairs and approached Kimberly once again who hadn't moved one inch from her spot. Harry winked at her, signaling her to go to the corner with him and get under the cloak.

            "Do you have that master ball of yours with you?"

            She nodded and took out an orange ball, no bigger than a marble, from her pocket. After seeing it, Harry nodded and pulled out his cloak. Quickly, he and Kimberly hid underneath it and crept toward the door. It was much more difficult than they expected. Students were everywhere, and if just one of them stepped on the cloak, they would be seen.

            After a good ten minutes, they reached the main doorway. Harry watched as Kimberly rubbed the master ball and gently placed it on the door. For a second, the exits cracked open and immediately shut again.

            "That's never happened before," she whispered and tried it again. But, the doors slammed shut just as they did before.

            "Maybe it's because you have the cloak in between. Extend your hand out a little. Just a little."

            Kimberly agreed and pushed through her thumb and index finger. After pressing it on the exit, she waited. Suddenly, the doors swung from both sides, and they quickly ran through them. After about five seconds, the doors closed by themselves. 

            "That's some little marble," Harry whispered and smiled. Surprisingly, Kimberly leaned forward with puckered lips. Harry rapidly turned away. "I think we should go to Marcus Malfoy's office right near Slytherin House."

            "Why?"

            "I need to see something. You don't have to come with me."

            Kimberly thought to herself then responded, "You'll need me to open his office door."

            Harry smiled, quite cheerful that she was on his side. They waited a few seconds to make sure the coast was clear before walking over toward the Slytherin House. Luckily, everyone was already in their Towers so no one was on the stairs. For some odd reason, the moving stairs were no longer moving at all.

            It didn't matter though since the path to the Slytherin House was clear. They started to pick up their pace, knowing that it would only be a matter of time until the doors were unlocked if they ever would be.

            "It's on the right," Kimberly whispered.

            "How do you know where his office is?"

            "Mother has all the updated maps of Hogwarts. I have one hanging over my bed. You can go look at it when we go back to the Gryffindor Tower."

            "Um… We'll see. Shush, his door is open."

            Harry and Kimberly slowly approached Marcus Malfoy's office to spot a large oak door completely unhinged from the sides. Holding their breaths, they entered through the doorway to spot two unmasked wizards standing in front of a globe of the ancient world. Immediately, Harry recognized the two men. One was of course Marcus Malfoy, and the other… Lucius Malfoy.

            "You fool!" Lucius yelled, banging his fist into the air as if to hit something. "You dare use the name Malfoy."

            "Mistaken once again, dear brother."

            "Half-brother, Marcus. Mother tended to have fresh meat in the bed each day, that whore."

            "Wretched liar. Why do you think and say such things? Have you no respect?"

            "Respect? I'll tell you about respect!" Lucius grabbed Marcus by the throat and growled in an enraged voice, "When I was eight years old, I walked into our parents' bedroom. Instead of finding father, I found a stranger with our mother in bed. Knowing fully well what was happening, I cursed her and that man she dared bring into our pure-blood home."

            "Lucius, I had no idea. I—"

            "Shut up! He was your father, Marcus! An unpure blood raised you and perhaps fathered you! That is why you can never go where you think you are going. Give up now.."

            "I don't understand. What do you know about what I have you been up to? Do you know whose responsible for these young wizards' illnesses? Please tell me no."

            "No. I have no part in that, I promise you. But, I'm afraid that something stains the Malfoy name."

            "What?"

            "You are so naïve. Do you think that the consul would let me get out of Azkaban? I know someone let me out, but for what purpose? There are several of us just waiting for a chance to—"

            "Achoo," Kimberly sneezed.

            "Bless you," Lucius said to Marcus.      

            "I didn't sneeze."

            "Then who…  Shush, we're being watched."

            Just then, Kimberly and Harry ran toward the door at once, no longer worried about not making noise. Lucius followed them quickly and grabbed into the air, hoping to catch someone. Unfortunately, he did grab something.

            "Ow!" Kimberly screeched as her hair was being yanked backwards. She tumbled from the invisibility cloak and onto the ground. Lucius smiled, grabbed her and swung her over his shoulder as he carried her back to Marcus's office.

            There was no time to rescue her. Instead, Harry ran to the nearest bathroom and threw off the cloak. Running some water, he splashed his red face with cold wetness and regained his breath. 

            "What am I going to do now," Harry said to himself. He then gulped a few times before realizing that Kimberly had the master ball. There was no way he could get back into the Gryffindor Tower. Alone and wet, Harry stared at himself in the mirror.

            An old face peered back at him. A scar faded on his forehead and long hair that needed cutting badly waved around his head. Very thin-framed glasses shielded his eyes, now covered in water. His features were blurred to him.

            "If only I could get through those doors. Or perhaps… That's it!"

            Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and wrapped it around him tightly. He then headed out of the bathroom and down the unshifting stairs. Luckily, the windows to the outside of Hogwarts were open and easily able to fit a person through them. Carefully, Harry moved his body through the window, creating a tear in his cloak.

            "Damnit," he said, but tried not to worry about it.

            Then, Harry ran toward Hagrid's hut and hoped that he was home. Wet dew squished beneath his sore feet as hundreds of thoughts piled through Harry's mind. _What would happen to Kimberly? What was that whole thing with the Malfoys? What conspiracy was occurring? Who were these threats coming from?_

            KNOCK KNOCK. Harry's fist banged on the door fiercely, making sure that anyone inside could hear him. After a second, the door swung open, and a huge man carrying a pitchfork stood confused.

            "Harry? What brings ya here at a time like dis? Ya should be inside Hogwarts!"

            "I'll try to explain quickly," Harry said as he rushed into Hagrid's hut.

            It took about fifteen minutes for Harry to spit out everything he knew from all the threats occurring, McGonagall's behavior, the school being locked down and Marcus Malfoy. The details were a little fuzzy and out of order, but the gist of it was clear; there was trouble at Hogwarts.


	8. Hogsmead Epistle

Chapter VIII: Hogsmead Epistle

            "Mornin', Harry."

            An enormous bearded figure towered over Harry's face, encasing him in its deep shadow. Cracking light into his pupils, Harry squinted and recollected where he was. He had spent the night at Hagrid's, and by now, someone must have noticed he was missing. In an adrenaline rush, Harry jolted out of the lumpy couch and reached for his invisibility cloak.

            "Not so fast!" Hagrid shouted and dragged Harry back down to the chair. He sighed and continued. "Da school's still locked up. I ain't want ya leaving 'til I say so. I, on da other hand, have ta visit Grawp." Hagrid paused and turned to the pantry cabinets. "If ya really hungry, try rummaging dar. Got a few jars of something."

            After he left the hut, Harry clutched his cloak and tight and thought to himself deeply. _If I go back now, I could be caught and get in a whole lot more trouble. But if I don't try to help Kimberly, it will be my fault if Malfoy hurts her._ _I can't just stay here and wait for Hagrid to say it's okay to leave. Okay, I know what I have to do._

Warily, Harry wrapped himself in the cloak and tucked in all the loose edges. He then walked toward the back door, and after opening it, stepped onto the small stone porch. Realizing he was alone, no giants in sight, he turned to the left and ran straight back to Hogwarts, right back to the window he escaped through the night before.

            As Harry wiggled his lean body through the edged glass, he spotted a coiled string that had snapped off his cloak the night before. Ever so gently he picked it up and tucked it into his pocket. However, by doing so, he unbalanced himself and fell smack down onto the cold marble flooring. 

            "Clumsy oaf," a British accent chuckled.

            "Sir Nicholas," Harry mumbled back. "Could you keep your voice down?"

            The ghost circled around Harry's bruised body and whooshed down right next to his ear then whispered, "Potter has been gone all night; Potter gave us all a fright. If Potter hears what I say, Potter will not come back today."

            "What? What do you mean I shouldn't go back?"

            However, the ghost of Sir Nicholas just chuckled once again and flew off into a wall. Slowly, Harry got up and readjusted his invisibility cloak so that it covered his body. Just then, he felt as though someone was watching him.

            "Move him gently!" Madame Pomfrey yelled.

            A stretcher rolled in front of Harry pushed by Goyle and Draco. Underneath the covers stuck out the head of Crabbe, completely encased in blue liquid. They hurried quickly toward the hospital wing and were mumbling back and forth to each other.

            "Serves him right," Draco said to himself, but loud enough for Goyle to hear.      

            "Shut up, Malfoy. Yes, you heard me, shut up."

            Surprisingly, Draco did just that. He looked over to the royal blue body and then over to Goyle again, possibly thinking about something important. Harry couldn't help it but feel sorry for that Slytherin boy Crabbe, even though he was a best friend with a Malfoy. 

            After they turned down another corridor, Harry raced toward the still unmoving staircase and then toward the Gryffindor Towers. As he finally approached the paintings, he realized they were all empty. Every frame surrounded a blank canvas, hollow and dark. 

            Instead of waiting for someone to return to the painting, he knocked on the door several times. However, either no one heard him or they just ignored him. Just before he was about to try again, a screech echoed into Harry's ears.

            "Hello little fellow," Harry whispered to a small red tailed owl with beady eyes and a letter attached to its hind claw. "Is that for me?"

            The owl untied the letter with its beak and then tossed it into Harry's hands. Immediately, it fluttered off down the hallway. Confused, Harry stared at the envelope, knowing fully well it could easily be another threat.

            But the letter suddenly floated out of Harry's hands and started opening by itself. Quickly, Harry shielded his eyes, hoping nothing would fall on top of him. Nothing did. Instead, the letter fell back toward Harry, hitting his cupped hands.

            "Strange," Harry said as he now clutched the open letter. However, this parchment wasn't blank like the other ones. A short letter in blue ink spread across the page reading:

     -Blue Blood-

      To Hogsmead  **__**

            Harry stared at the words over and over until finally he tucked it into his robe and decided to do what the letter told him. If it was a trap, then so be it; he had nowhere else to go. He would take the secret passageway as he did a few years ago and hope that no one would catch him.

             And so, Harry crept down the hallways, eyeing every wall and jumping at every creak. After a good ten minutes, Harry moved toward an ironclad statue with its studded helmet facing westward to a velvet-draped window. It held a rustic spear in one hand that was chipped; probably from the Weasley twins' escape the previous year. Behind the statue was square doorway, now blocked with stone.

            "Damnit," Harry muttered, realizing there was no way he could get to Hogsmead now without getting caught. There was nowhere else to go. Harry could easily go back to Hagrid's hut, but that wouldn't help much. Then there was Kimberly…

            "I shouldn't have left her," Harry sighed, thinking about what torture the Malfoy brothers were doing to her. 

            Stumbling back to his feet, Harry made sure his robe was in place and then hurried back to Marcus Malfoy's office. It was much harder getting there than last time because one of the staircases had moved, but only halfway, so it did not connect to the other side.

            Thus, Harry had to jump. It was only a few feet, no more than four, but if he fell, it would be a worse fate yet. Steadying himself at the edge of the staircase, Harry leapt forward, clutching the end of the floor with his forearms. Gradually, he raised his body over onto the marble surface and let out a groan.

            Immediately, he cupped his hands over his mouth, forgetting for a moment that he was invisible. Or was he… Harry looked down at his own flesh and then to his tattered robe. His hands frantically moved around the floor until he reached the end where the staircase did not meet. Looking over the edge, he spotted his curled up cloak two levels downward.

            To jump would be suicide, and Harry knew that. Now visible to anyone around him, Harry picked up his legs and continued toward Marcus Malfoy's office. Even if he was caught getting there, at least he knew he tried to save Kimberly.

            "Almost there," Harry whispered and coughed as he tried to catch his breath. He stood only around the corner, considering whether or not he should just soar in or try to sneak in.

            "There has to be another way," Harry again whispered as his eyes darted around the intersecting corridors. Suddenly, Harry's eye met the oval, wooden latched surface on the ceiling. It was locked with a ragged three-inch long nail, but seemed to lead to a passageway.

            _How I am going to get up there_, Harry thought to himself. _And I don't have that master ball… How will I open it?_

            Ever so gently, he clutched his wand and pointed it at the latch. He muttered softly, "How did Hermione do that thing… Oh yes… Alohomora!" 

            Sparks jolted in a line toward the latch and disintegrated it. With the lock gone, all Harry had to do was somehow lift his body up there. He had to fly. But he never practiced such a spell, and even if he remembered one, it would very dangerous to try it without proper training.

            _If I can't get to the opening, it will have to come to me,_ Harry thought. It was a rather crazy thought, but not completely. There were spells in which items could be moved to closer to a person; yet, it never mentioned moving a ceiling closer. No time could be spent worrying whether or not it could work or it was safe. Any second now Lucius or Marcus could turn the corner and find him.

            "Okay, think, Harry, think," he muttered. "Come on, you studied this before…" Harry tried to remember where heard of such magic before. It was during his training for the Triwizard Tournament… "This better work."

            Harry aimed his wand carefully and closed his eyes while taking in deep breathes. "Distantius Omitaro."

            He didn't hear anything move and felt his heart sink downward. However, when Harry reopened his eyes, he was faced with a wooden, oval doorway right above his head. "Yes!" Harry hissed softly and quickly pulled open the latch. He lifted himself onto the flooring and closed the oak flap.

            Yet, this was no passageway at all. Harry found himself facing the elements on the rooftop. Around him was stonewalling, no less than six feet high. It had spiked arrows shadowing around it and enclosing any way off the roof. At first, Harry thought this was horrible, having spent all that time in vain. However, he looked down to the gray slated flooring and wandered his eyes over to a small, dirty window to the right. 

            Harry crawled over to it and looked downward. There, two figures stood, one very tall and the other short. The man had long blonde hair that covered most his back… Lucius Malfoy.

            "This is it," Harry said and without thinking, he smashed the window. Immediately, Harry's bloodied hand pulled away, but not much after Lucius looked up and spotted the drips of blood from the jagged glass. One drop splattered onto Lucius's nose. He took his index finger, wiped it off and licked it.

            "This isn't pure," he said to himself and pushed the other shorter person aside. "Get down here!" Lucius yelled.

            Harry, panicked, ran back toward the wooden door and ripped it open. He jumped down into the corridor and bolted at the nearest classroom away from the Malfoy office. To his dismay, it was locked. Panting and dripping in blood, Harry pondered his fate. 

            "Harry!" a voice yelled behind him.

            Without turning around, Harry tried to run to the end of the corridor, but someone grabbed his robe first. He fell to the ground and sluggishly moved his body over to see none other than Kimberly Hooch.

            "You look awful!" she squealed.

            "You're alive! Thank goodness. Where's Lucius?" 

            Kimberly pointed upward. "He disappeared into thin air. I think he went to the rooftop. We haven't much time… Hurry!"

            Kimberly grabbed Harry's red hands and pulled him up. They raced quickly down the hallway and found a boy's bathroom locked. Luckily, Kimberly had the master ball and eagerly used it. They entered it quickly and locked the door behind them. Harry looked over at Kimberly who now leaned arched over the sinks. 

            "Are you hurt too?" Harry asked.

            She nodded her head. "Not physically… Harry, something bad is going happen."

            "What do you mean?"

            Kimberly turned her head, her eyes dripping with tears. "Hogwarts is going to be destroyed, along with all of us in it."


	9. The Reversal Spell

Chapter IX: The Reversal Spell

            "Ron, have you found her?" Hermione asked as she frantically looked around the Common Room.

            "No and neither have any of the other first years."

            "This is terrible."

            Ron nodded. "You'll get in a lot of trouble for losing a first year."

            "Shut up, Ron. It's terrible 'cause she could be hurt somewhere. What happens if she dies like Chad did?"

            "He didn't die," Ron responded. "Well, I don't think he did anyway."

            "It doesn't matter now. They've caged us in and won't tell us what's happening," Hermione broke down and sat in the middle of the room. Her hair engulfed most her head as she tried to prevent herself from weeping.

            The tip of Ron's pinky finger curled underneath Hermione's eyes and wiped away the fraying tears. Whole-heartedly he embraced her suffering, hugging her body for comfort. He hadn't realized how much of a woman she had become and that she was no longer the little girl he had fell in love with.

            "We've been in much worse matters than this," Ron hushed. "You didn't cry when we faced Vol… Voldemort."

            Hermione's lips curled up a little when hearing that Ron was able to say His name. Not only did it show how brave Ron had become but that he was willing to do and say anything to comfort her. Staring into Ron's eyes, she suddenly said,

            "Ron…"

            "Yes?" 

            "I think… I… Where's Harry?"

            Ron's heart slumped a little downward and a lot into misery. Perhaps his imagination was getting the best of him, but he kept picturing Hermione saying those three words, 'I love you.' Instead, she immediately changed the subject to another guy. What luck.

            "I don't know. I haven't seen him in hours."

            Hermione grew concerned and frantically pushed herself against Ron in order to get up off the floor. Staggering toward the door, she realized they were still locked. And so she slumped her body next to it and rubbed her face into her hands.

***

            "Destroyed? What the hell are you talking about?"

            Kimberly sniffled and replied, "Lucius told me I was gonna die along with everyone else."

            "Did he say _when_?" Harry asked, in a startlingly calm voice.

            "Um," she thought to herself. "Um, oh, I don't remember. Well, wait, he did say 'soon.'"

            "Look, I know you've been through hell, Kim and believe me, so have I. But there are other lives at stake here. Soon isn't good enough. For all we know, the whole school's dead."

            Her skin grew pale against the stonewalling. A thin line of water smeared down her right cheek as her nose pierced in prickling pain. The thought of her mother, a broomstick impaled through her chest, lying dead in a puddle of warm blood, raced through her mind.

            "I know he mumbled something more, but I couldn't hear him," Kim pleaded, trying desperately to remember.

            "Perhaps I can."

            "What?"

            "Would you let me enter your mind? Just for a moment."

            Kimberly took a step back. "You're joking, right? How are you going to do that?"

            "A reversal spell."

            She chuckled and then paused. "Are you mad?" She screamed. "We're not even of age yet! I know plenty of wizards, old and wise, who can't do that!"

            "I don't need to be of age! Or old! Or very wise! Trust me. I can do it."

            After shaking her head no several times, Kim stopped and sighed. "Fine. Do it quickly. But if you kill me, I swear I will haunt you 'til the afterlife."

            Harry smiled. "Promise?" He then raised his wand and cleared his throat. The spell had to be perfect or else it would not work, and he could possibly kill Kimberly. Now, he focused his mind, cleared away the thoughts of Hogwarts destroyed and began to chant slowly.

            "Remanserat, remanserat, esilia nonilius, remanserat, remanserat."

            Thickness clouded Harry's mind. Gray fog, curling up against his toes and frost nipping at his thumb, curdled around him. Fire, majestic & cold, flamed about his body in a white marvelous rush. Thoughts not of his own were flashing in and out. A boy's face, then a girl's, then Harry's own reflection, then another boy and others were popping in and out of frame.

            Everything was in a jumble. Incoherent thoughts rampaged throughout his mind, as if it were a shattered puzzle, pieces half crushed and twisted. So many voices, giggles and screams passing through. _Where am I?_ Harry thought. _What, no, how, no why... Oh, I don't know, I don't understand._

_Somebody help me!_ He screamed in his thoughts. Pressure built around him, forcing him to take deeper breathes. And then a most familiar voice responded. 

"Harry, don't worry. You're safe here."

"What madness is this? Kimberly? Is that you? Show yourself!"

Again, she responded, "Do not worry or trouble yourself. You came here to reflect upon my thoughts. Hurry though, time is of the essence."

 Suddenly, Harry remembered what he was supposed to do. He had to retrieve memories, very important ones. _But how?_ All around him were jumbled images and people talking, much that he did not understand or recognize. _Wait, stop. What was that?_

Lucius Malfoy stared back at him. He stood still like a picture, glaring back at Harry, not moving nor talking. Cautiously, Harry leaned forward and touched the image. It started to swirl counter clockwise until Harry's hand itself swirled with it. His whole body twisted and was pulled into different world, a world of the past.

"Shut up, girl!" Malfoy's voice boomed.

Harry responded without thinking and in a voice not of his own. "What are you going to do with me?"

He was seeing through the eyes of Kimberly Hooch, reliving her memories as if he was she. Quickly, Lucius gave a blow to Kimberly's face, knocking her front teeth together and pulling one back. His index finger grabbed a portion of blood seeping from her lip and licked it.

"Very pure. I had no idea the House of Hooch had such greatness. It will be a shame to lose you. But in order to save you, I must kill you." He then grabbed her chin and cheek tightly and yanked her closely. "Soon, all of Hogwarts will be in ruin. But as for you, there would be better uses of such pureness. Perhaps an exception would be made. That is why I must kill you."

            As Kimberly tried to pull back, Lucius held on tighter, leaving red bruises all around her bottom face. After a few tugs, Kimberly broke free of his grasp and stumbled backward into a small ivory chair. She regained balance and responded,

            "I would never help you!"

            "Strong words from such a vile brat!" Lucius shouted and pointed his wand at her nose. "No, I shall not destroy you now. That will come shortly."

            "Shortly?"

            "In a matter of days, Hogwarts will cease to be, so save your whimpering for the soon dead!"

            "Harry, did it work?" Kimberly's innocent voice interjected.

            After blinking his eyes, Harry realized he was no longer in the past, in Kimberly's mind. He was back in the bathroom with chills crawling up his spine. Things became more complicated now. They didn't have much time.

            "Yes, it worked. We must go to Dumbledore, now."

            "What will he do? What will we say?"

            As Harry started to walk away, he tilted his head slightly to mouth, "I don't know," but nothing came out. Instead, a wall hit Harry, making him realize that he couldn't trust anyone. What if Dumbledore was on their side? However mad it sounded, there was no way of telling whom to trust.

            Kimberly stepped forward after Harry and looked over to the doorway. "We have two choices. Run to some authority and hope they can help. Or, we can take matters into our own hands. We can find these bad guys—"

            "The Blue Bloods."

            "Excuse me?"

            Harry recalled the letter he had received. "Someone wanted me to meet them at Hogsmead. It was signed the Blue Bloods."

            Surprisingly, Kimberly's face turned a shade of white, paler than it even was before. She stumbled back and clutched onto the sink.

            "You've heard of them?" Harry asked, following her back.

            "Only read about them in my Ancient History class. I wasn't supposed to, but I always read ahead."

            "And?"

            "Well," she began, "the Blue Bloods are another word for Pure Bloods. They aren't Death Eaters 'cause they follow no one. Instead, they chose to isolate themselves from society and live together in a, well, Mudblood free society."

            Harry twitched hearing the word Mudblood, especially from Kimberly's mouth. "Then Lucius is apart of this group?"

            Kimberly shrugged. "It seems so. How could Lucius have wrote that letter when he was with me the whole time?"

            "I don't know. But we can find out. The secret passageway to Hogsmead is blocked, but what if we cleared that blockage?"

            "Maybe. But I have a better idea, Harry. Come on, follow me." 


	10. Theodore McGonagall

Chapter X: Theodore McGonagall

            "Minerva, I'm afraid we will have to close down Hogwarts... Permanently."

            "Oh, for heaven's sake, Albus! Not forever. Yes, we may have to shut down for a semester, to figure out who's behind this, but Hogwarts will reopen."

            "No, that will not happen. For you see, Professor Snape found something rather interesting when he investing the strange substance that Miss Granger had been encased in."

            Professor McGonagall stood back from Dumbledore's desk and shook her head violently. "I don't know what you mean."

            "Don't you?" the old wizard asked as he pointed to a jar on his desk. "We found this same substance in your office, Minerva. In your office!" He slammed his hand abruptly on the wooden desk and glared fiercely. "Now, tell me, what part do you have in all of this?"

            Tears stared to trickle down her cheek as she tried to snivel in her emotion. Loud snorts erupted, releasing all her frustration. Her face, covered in wetness, slowly unwrinkled as it looked up toward Dumbledore compassionately. She then whispered a name.

            "Theodore."

            "Beg your pardon?"

            She repeated in a more stern voice. "Theodore McGonagall. My brother."

            "Yes, I know who he is, a Death Eater. What does he have to do with this," he pointed to the jar and continued, "this evil, here?"

            "No! No, he is not! He's, he's—"

            "He's right here." 

            A man, six feet tall with slender legs underneath a tattered robe, entered the room. His face was fallen, thin and frail. A thick golden mustache covered his upper lip while a few strands grew out of his chin. His head, half balding, was covered with a thick, black pointed hat that tilted to the right. Underneath his large spectacles were beady gray eyes resembling very much of Minerva McGonagall.

            "How did you get here? You were sentenced to Azkaban!" Dumbledore yelled and grabbed his wand from under his beard and robe.

            "He was," Professor McGonagall whimpered, "But I helped him escape. He's been hiding here at Hogwarts for the past few weeks."

            "Never in all my stars could I have imagined such a conjuring. All of people… How did you do it? Why would you break out a criminal?"

            "I am no criminal, sir," Theodore stepped forward in between his sister and Dumbledore. "I am but a man, not a wizard. I had never heard of this dark wizard you called, what was it, Voltemar?"

            "Voldemort…" Dumbledore corrected.

            "Yes, yes, same difference. I was living in the, what you call, Muggle world, when a band of robed figures came to arrest me. However, my sister kindly withdrew some favors when she heard of my arrest. After my unfair trial, some wizards from some Order of the Phoenix came to my rescue. In my place at Azkaban there is a soulless replicant of myself, which they cannot tell the difference I might hope."

            "That explains the how, but why, Minerva, why? How do you know he still does not follow Voldemort? It is not unheard of that the Dark Lord puts Muggles under his spell. And how is he a Muggle and you're not? So many questions," Dumbledore rambled on as he took a seat.

            "I can explain only part of that," she responded. "As for the why… He is my brother. That is all the reason you should need. I must believe in him. For all my life he has never been dishonest, and he isn't about to start now. As for his lack of powers, that is of another agenda. I would rather not say."

            "Then I will," Theodore said in his British accent. "We do not share the same mother. When Minerva's mother passed away in childbirth, our father fell in love with a new woman, a Muggle, shortly after. Yes, that would still make me half-wizard, but I did not inherit any of my father's power. I am as ordinary as any Muggle out there."

            "If this is all true, which I cannot fully know… Then how did this substance get in your office, Minerva? If Mister McGonagall did not send these letters, then who did?"

            "I do not know that, Albus. The evidence seems to stand against me sadly."

            "Yes, I'm afraid it does."

***

            "Slow down!" Harry shouted.

            "You're not fast enough! Come on!"

            "This would be easier if I knew where we were going."

            Abruptly, Kimberly stopped and turned. "My mum."

            "Coach Hooch? How will she help us?"

            "My mum will do anything for me, including lending me her transfera."

            "What's that?"

            Kimberly sighed. "You don't even know what a transfera is? Where have you been living? In a rock?" She paused, barely remembering what had happened with Sirius. "Nevermind. I didn't mean it that way. Sorry."

            "Whatever. Anyway, what does a transfera do? And why would your mother let you have it anyway?"

            "It's a device that can literally transport your mind to another place, but not your body. Actually, it's quite illegal to posses one or use it, but my mum hides lots of those kinds of gadgets around. And no, she won't let us use it."

            "Wait, if she won't let us—"

            "Please, Harry! We are going to take it anyway," Kimberly laughed and lead Harry down a twisting corridor. "Since everyone is so busy trying to keep Hogwarts all secure, they won't even notice our use of the transfera. Now, you with me?"

            At first, Harry wanted to back away. That letter from Hogsmead was most likely a trick and by sending their minds there, they could put themselves in more risk than imaginable. Perhaps it was better to just go back to the Gryffindor Tower and wait until things settled down in Hogwarts. In time, things will get solved and return back to the way they were, despite what Kimberly predicted about the school being destroyed. How did Harry know she wasn't a traitor? He didn't, but now, he had very few choices and people whom he could trust.

            And so, Harry sluggishly responded, "Yes."

            "Fantastic! Come on, we'll be there shortly."

            It took only a matter of minutes before the two reached Madame Hooch's office. The door was bolted shut, but that was no problem for Kimberly's masterball. She gently placed its orange orb next to the dead bolt and sparked it open quickly. A woman's high shrieking voice screamed back at them.

            "Intruders! I have a wand!"

            Kimberly giggled back. "I have one too, mum."

            "Kimberly? Darling, what brings you here? Why aren't you in your room? And who's that with you… Oh, dear words. Young Mister Potter. This is an odd get-together, is it not?"  
            "We have so much to tell you!" Kimberly yelled and eyed over at Harry. She then looked over toward a rustic cage sitting behind Madame Hooch's desk. The top of it was covered in a thick, velvet cloth while the bottom peeked out a bit. It seemed as if a glowing, sapphire crystal laid inside it, flickering on and off as Harry looked at it. 

            "But first, why aren't you in the Gryffindor common room with all your other friends?"

            "It's a long story, mum. Please, let's sit over here, and I'll tell you everything, I promise."

            Her mother smiled her ruby painted lips that matched the small streaks in her short, blonde hair. She then walked over toward a large, brown leather coach covered in a thin clear plastic so that when she sat, it squeaked back at her. Harry, however, ever so slightly inched over toward the desk, trying to make it seem as if he was just wandering and not bringing attention to where his eyes kept fluttering.

            As Kimberly blabbed on to her mother about Lucius, the letter, the Blue Bloods and everything else she could possibly say, Harry found his way to the covered cage. He had to act quickly before Madame Hooch realized what he was doing. After counting backwards from three, Harry lifted the cloth, unlatched the hook that closed the cage and grabbed the crystal that now glowed in his hand bright blue. He then shut the cage, put the cloth back on and tucked the crystal into his pocket.

            Suddenly, Kimberly grabbed her mother and hugged her tightly while motioning with her large eyes for Harry to come over to where she was. Harry understood, rushed over toward the broad couches and hovered near the two Hooches.

            "We should go back to our rooms now, Kimberly," Harry said innocently.

            "Oh, I agree. I'll walk you two down—"

            "No!" Kimberly shouted. "Really, mum, we can get there on our own."

            "But I insist. To ensure that no one harms you and—"

            "Really, Madame Hooch," Harry started, "we'll be fine. And besides, you can't leave your office. What if Dumbledore needed you? Really, we'll be fine."

            Hooch nodded. "You two be good."

            "We will, mum!"

            Whispering into her daughter's ear, Hooch said, "Potter's a nice catch, dear. Don't let him get away."

            Kimberly snickered back, grabbed Harry's hand and ran out of the office. After they passed through a few corridors, Kimberly turned to Harry and stared at the somewhat shimmering pocket.

            "That is what I think it is, right?"

            Harry nodded and lifted the crystal out. "Now what?"

            "Come on. We'll use it somewhere safe."

            "Another bathroom?"

            Kimberly smiled. "Ha, no, Harry. We're close to the astronomy lab. It's perfect there. It's so dark, no one will even see us."

            "Hello? The crystal is glowing! Of course they'll see us."

            "It only glows when it's not being used. If we use it right away, then no one will see us. Understand?"

            "Why do you know so much?" Harry asked.

            "I'm a girl. We always know more than you."

            Harry rolled his eyes and followed Kimberly into the astronomy lab. As they entered the open archway, Harry kept the crystal buried in his pocket. Thick oak trees blocked their path as they tried tiptoe across the lush grassy ground. A cricket sang its sweet melody near Harry's left ear as he tried to shoo it away. Finally, they found a crevasse that seemed deserted. No trees, crickets or anyone there to stop them from using the transfera. 


	11. Perilous Hogsmead

Chapter XI: Perilous Hogsmead

            "Another butterbeer, sugar?" A raspy old voice echoed over a Maplewood bar top. Her thick gray hair was pinned tightly to her bobbling, narrow head. Long teal tresses covered her aging body as she hurriedly served dozens of customers at a time. 

            "Keep them coming," a gentleman responded. He sat on top a rather tall, red stool parallel to the bar table. His long hair, tied back by a rubber band, fell over his shoulder every few seconds as the gentleman brushed it aside. Three empty beer jugs lined up in front of his weary eyes. Through each glass he saw a blurred version of the bartender whom now served him his fourth drink.

            "I think that be enough of ye," she said. "Better be off to dat school of yers. I heard it be havin' some trouble."

            "Yes, quite right," he said as he grabbed his drink and began to spill supple morsels of it into his parched mouth. Its golden color trickled down onto the gentleman's tattered robe that covered most nearly his whole body. Slender long fingers tried to rub out the stain, but it was useless. Very casually, the gentleman took out a wand and propped it up slightly as if to use it.

            "There ain't be no magic here," the bartender squealed. "Put dat away or else there be a far worse punishment."

            "Very well, then." Then, whispering to himself, he muttered, "I hope you close your eyes, for you'll be seeing much magic soon enough."

            "What?"

            "Nothing, you hag, fill me up another one," he snapped back. "I don't have all of eternity. Wait, I do, but that's besides the point."

            "Delusional and fresh. Well, I never. Here, take it, but you better be worth the money."

            The gentleman tossed a dozen gold coins onto the table, letting them ring and twirl a bit before they stopped circling. After much clamor, the bartender pulled one coin and held it up toward the little light there was. She then smacked it a few times and tried to bend it with her bare hands. After little luck in doing so, she looked up at the strange man and smiled.

            "What brings such a rich man to mine fine establishment?"

            The gentleman spit out his beer and hooked the lady with his cupped hands. He pulled her over the bar table, causing many heads to turn and watch in amazement. His grip tightened as he stared straight into the lady's gray, frightened eyes.

            "What did you call me?"

            "Oh, sir, I dids call you a rich man, nothing more. Ye must of misheard me, that all."

            "A rich what?"

            "Rich ma ma man, sir," she stuttered and darted her eyes to the other customers as if to ask for their help. However, the few robed strangers drinking ignored her wordless plea.

            "Foul thing to call me. Dare insult me, wrench?"

            "No, not at all. I means you a wizard. 'Tis a big difference, I know. Quite sorry, but if thee would put me down…"

            Horridly, the gentleman tossed the lady's body backward into the glass filled shelves. She cracked her skull upon the hard objects and fell to the floor motionless. Strangely enough, no customer came to her assistance. Instead, they continued to drink their butterbeer and chatter over other subject matters.

            "What the dickens is that," the gentlemen muttered as a glowing fire spread in the air. Its shape, a ring, extended across the bleak tapestry as light blue images phased through it. Two figures, short and ghostly in appearance, emerged from the circle of flames. 

            "Are you okay?" a boy's voice asked.

            "Shaken a bit, but that's all. Harry, it worked."

            The two stood staggering; they were nothing more than hollow images of smoke but very real to each other. As each gripped their balance, the gentleman pounced forward, nearly tackling the two down. He forced Harry and Kim behind the countertop so that no one else could see them but him. His voice, still cold and strong, now whispered.

            "Mister Potter?" 

            "Aye, sir… Are you the one who summoned me?" he asked, trying to see the gentleman's face; yet he couldn't, it was covered in a dark robe shadowing his face.

            "Perhaps. What a strange method of arrival… Quite intriguing… But that's not what I wish to talk about. Who is this?"

            His eyes darted over to Kim who now shuttered. "Your voice is familiar," she responded.

            "She is not needed here. Send her back," the gentleman snapped.

            "Now I know that voice," she said again. "Remove your hood, sir."

            He laughed. "You are ordering me around? What nonsense. Away with you!" His wand now trickled inches away from Kim's forehead. As if he were to hum an enchantment, his lips began to move ever to slowly.

            "Professor Snape!" Kim shouted and rolled over to the side, leaving Harry alone. "I knew you were a Blue Blood!"

            "Snape?" Harry repeated to himself. 

            "Don't you dare repeat those words here! Vanisho!" the gentleman shouted and the image of Kimberly disappeared. "Foolish of you to use a transfera unsupervised. Very dangerous you know and very illegal. Expulsion at least."

            "Snape?"

            "Potter."

            "You are a Blue Blood? I should have known."

            "No, I am not, and if you repeat that name once more," Snape paused and kneeled down to Harry who was now curled halfway underneath the countertop. "There are others here who are less appreciative of hearing that name uttered. You cannot trust them."

            "But the letter—"

            "I was hoping you would come in person to warn to you… It is unsafe to speak to you like this. Others can view a transfera too easily. I shall meet you back at Hogwarts. Stay where you are."

            "Wait, I do not understand. So you're not a blue, well, one of them?"

            "No. But I know who is and who must be stopped. Now, vanisho!"

            Harry reopened his eyes to find himself back in the astronomy lab, darkness surrounding his confused body. Kimberly wasn't far away, slumped against a tree and staring into nothingness. Quickly, Harry crawled to her side and grabbed her chilled hands. She jerked back a bit and tilted her head at Harry's ashen face.

            "I don't understand… How can Snape be a Blue Blood?" Kimberly asked.

            "He's not. At least that's what he claims and for some reason, I believe him."

            "Oh, Harry, why? Why would you believe Snape's word? I've heard all about the feud you two have. It's practically a legend around here."

            "You don't know the half of it… Snape, well, he's helped me in the past. You wouldn't understand," Harry said and looked down into his hands. He still gripped the transfera, but it no longer glowed as it did before. "Did I break it?"

            Kimberly shook her head. "It's recharging. We can't use it again for a while."

            "Actually, you could, but your molecules would be dispersed through the Hogwarts' halls, and we wouldn't be needing that, now would we?" a deep voice entered the room.

            It was dark though that no shadow could be seen or even cast. But a presence was felt that moved closer toward Harry and Kimberly. As it was almost in sight of them, the figure stopped and spoke once more.

            "Funny how you both contain so much potential, but sadly, potential means nothing. Miss Hooch, begone with you. I have no purpose to discuss with the likes of _you"_

"And what does that supposed to mean?" Kimberly shouted back.

"Well, I knew your blood was pure and I wondered how such a rich line could have been forgotten. It hasn't my dear. For you see, Hooch is your father's last name. A pure bloodline too, but not as perfect as your mother's, whose heritage far surpassed my expectations."

"What are you getting at?"

"Miss Hooch, or should I say, Miss Gryffindor, you already belong to my sect. The House of Gryffindor has been loyal to us from the beginning. Though, it may seem hard to believe that you could have any of the same blood as a founder; well, my research proves no errors. And because you are a Gryffindor by blood, you are a Blue Blood for life."

Kimberly sat motionless, unsure of what to think or say. Her numb frame turned a shade of ruby, glistening in terrified shock. The figure snapped his fingers, and Kimberly was gone, much like before but this time, Harry had the feeling she would not be returning so soon. Then, the figure stepped closer and grabbed the transfera from Harry's hands. "Wonderful tool, when used properly. If only you knew what wonders this could do… Now, we have some matters to discuss, Potter."

             "First of all, who the hell are you? Secondly, if you lay a hair on Kimberly I will—"

            "A tad bit hasty are we? Well, to answer the later, Miss Gryffindor will be fine. Her power is a gift that shall help her when the time comes. Her destiny is with us now. As for myself, there is much that you do not need to know."

            The figure now looked down at the transfera in his hand. "You used this recently. With whom did you speak?"

            "I'm not telling you anything until I know who I'm talking to."

            "Very well—" He stepped in front of Harry, his shadow covering Harry's already shaking face. "Oh, you should not be shocked, dear Potter."

            "Malfoy?"

            "Yes. But do call me Lucius."

            "Malfoy," Harry uttered, gritting his teeth, "you are the leader of these Blue Bloods?"

            "Heavens no! I am but a pawn in their mastered game. And when it is time to be checked, you must be sure you are not a fallen knight. The time is near when Hogwarts will fall and those who deserve to be with the likes of us will stand. There is a place for you with us if you choose wisely."

            "And if I refuse?"

            "Then you will die with your little friends here when the battle begins."

            "We will fight you and whoever else joins your little sect!"        

            "Little? You'd be surprised, Potter, how many of us there are. Several of your own friends share the same blood as us. And can be with them. Friends, like that girl of yours, Chang is it? Her grandparents joined us when we were in our infancy of growth. And when she fights with us, can you be able to destroy you?"

            Harry did not even consider the possible that people like Cho could be apart of something with people like Malfoy. And if he stayed with Ron and Hermione, he would have to fight her. But if he were to betray them and fight along the side of Cho, then he would live with the greatest powers of all and the greatest guilt of destroying his friends. His decision was clear.

            "I will join you, Malfoy." Harry said with pride and stood on both feet. He extended his hand and looked firmed into Malfoy's eyes.


	12. Stupified Snape

Chapter XII: Stupefied Snape

            While it is not out of character for Ron to whimper when he is upset or scared, his bemoaning of late was quite out of tune. He smeared his mucus tears onto his sleeves and peered over at Hermione who took full charge of the scattered students. Her voice echoed throughout the room, blasting at every newcomer who dared badmouthed the school. However, it was no use, fear took the best of each and every student, including Ron himself.

            "Ron, we are stuck here for however long, and I don't need your weakness right now. Be a man," Hermione commanded and patted Ron on the left shoulder. 

            "I'm not a man," Ron responded, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm not even a real wizard."

            "Ron, why would you say such a thing? Of course you're a wizard."

            "No, no I'm not." Ron stood up at once, defending himself in a staggering sort of way. "If I were a wizard, I could use my magic to unlock these doors and find out what's going on out there. If I were a wizard, I could snap my fingers and everything would be all right. If I were a _real _wizard, a _real _one, I'd have the courage to say half the things you do."

            "What things would you say, Ron? What could you possibly be afraid to tell me?"

            "I love you," Ron whispers to himself, trying so very hard to utter it louder so that Hermione might here and utter the same words back.

            "What did you say? Speak louder! Or don't speak at all then."

            "I love—" Ron started, his voice loud and strong. "I love—"

            Abruptly, a horrendous squeak unhinged the two doors to the Common Room. Slowly, the doors reopened and a person emerged wearing a dark robe and slender black hair, shoulder length. He paced through the doors and rushed over to the exact spot where Ron and Hermione were standing. 

            "Where's Potter?" he asked.

            "Professor, what are you doing here? How did you get in?" Hermione babbled.

            "No time. Where's Potter?" he repeated.

            Ron replied, "We don't know. We haven't seen him in hours. What do you want with him? Shouldn't you be with your own House?"

            "That's none of your concern. If Potter isn't here, then where could he be?"

            "We already told you, we don't know."

            "Very well! I'll have to search for him myself. Carry on, Prefects." And with that, Professor Snape left the room, storming out just as he stormed in a few seconds prior. He paced his steps faster and faster until there was nothing left heard throughout the halls but his own footsteps. 

            Snape snarled, as he could not see any person in it. As a Headmaster, he could enter almost any room in Hogwarts, including locked Common Rooms. However, his ability to teleport wherever he wished was painful. He used it once that day, traveling to Hogsmead. He could not risk using it again without damaging himself. And so, he continued his search on foot, poking in and out of each room he passed, hoping to capture a glimpse of Harry or his counterpart Kimberly.

            As he neared yet another plain corner, he came across a pathway most intriguing. A few papers lay on the ground scattered in the middle of an open doorway. Snape tried to recall whose office it was that was in such dishevel. Oh yes, Marcus Malfoy's office, he remembered. As he now entered the room, Snape found broken lamps and scattered glass on the ground. 

            From out the corner of his eye he spotted a small pool of blood on the ground. Raising his suspicions of foul play lurking about, Snape knew that the answers he sought would not been found there. And so, he left the office and started to head toward the local bathrooms until he heard the shrillest voice behind him.

            "What have you done with my daughter?" the voice asked.

            Snape jumped slightly and turned around. "Madame Hooch. What a pleasant surprise. I am too in search of someone. Now, who are looking for?" Snape asked in kind, strange manner.

            "My Kimberly! That boy she was with, oh what's his name, he's famous… Oh, Harry Potter, yes, he took my transfera, and I just know he's getting my daughter in trouble! I will not stand for such ruckus!"

            "When did you last see them?"

            "I can't count the hours. But I was hoping to find Mister Malfoy—"

            "Oh?"

            "Yes, he is in charge of keeping this place orderly, and this is not orderly! Perhaps he could help me find my Kimberly."

            "He is not in his office right now," Snape said as he attempted to block her view of the disheveled doorway. "However, I will find them. Now, you said Mister Potter took your transfera. Where would they be if they were to use such an item?"

            "Oh, Kimberly would never use it! She knows better. Too dangerous for a girl her age."

            "Humor me. Where would they be?"

            She pondered for a bit, using her hands as a scratching post. "Somewhere dark. Any closed classroom would do. But roomy too. You can't be disturbed when using it. If you disconnect from the linkage, serious brain damage will happen. No. You don't think Kimberly would seriously try to use it?"

            "Madame Hooch, I cannot say for certain," Snape gritted through his teeth. "I must go searching for them now. I suggest that you stay in your office."

            "You aren't so smart for a Dark Arts teacher. Even my daughter knows to stay away from the likes of you-never even read one of your books I imagine-and now you, an imposter of a teacher, expect me to sit still? Well, that's a snort. Ha. I'm coming with you."

            "No! You are not!" Snape snapped back. "Madame, return, now."

            "Who in Merlin do you think you are? You may scare the children, but you certainly do not scare me! However glorious you think you are, you are wrong. I will find my daughter myself!" And with that, Hooch turned about and headed in the opposite direction, her mouth still fuming in white rage.

            "She certainly is scared; I can tell," Snape said to himself in a very low, slow space. "But perhaps not of me. That daughter, Kimberly, recognized me at Hogsmead. But from what her mother tells, she is not interested in the sorts of Dark Arts. Intriguing. What was that?"

            A thud from the distance like the gallop of a horse pounded. Snape's eyes widened, realizing it was coming from the astronomy lab. He clutched his wand tight and fled toward the direction of the sound. As he closed in, Snape's sweat trickled down his forehead, brushing against his thick, chapped lips.

            He heard two voices, both male, one old and the other not, from inside the room. It was nothing but murmurs to him from where he stood, but Snape knew that pitch from anywhere. He had heard that voice so many times that even walls could not hide its identity.

            "Albus," Snape whispered. He waited for a few seconds until he spun his back from against the wall and faced the archway into the lab. There stood two figures across the plain. Both adult wizards he presumed from their stature. He squinted his eyes to make out the hat of Albus Dumbledore and another figure before him. But the shape was clothed in a robe, hiding any distinguishable features.

            "We have company," Albus said loudly and shot a bright light at Snape's direction. A lime green flare lit up a path from Snape to Albus. Shadows disappeared in a foot wide path in bright green with thin white fog lifting from the ground. Standing next to Dumbledore was a character he did not expect to see. 

            "Mister Snape, so good of you to join us," he said.

            "Albus, what are you doing here with _him_? How did he escape his trials?"

            "There are pressing matters to be discussed. And I believe you are mistaken. Lucius here has never stood trial. Now, please, join us." Albus waved his hand, and Snape was pushed forward, his feet levitated from the ground. He appeared in front of Albus, his face twisted and confused.

            "That office is a mess," Snape said in a stern voice.

            "Yes, well, that happens when your brother goes mad."

            "Severus, you need to be aware of matters which I wished would never be touched. Hogwarts is under attack."

            "I know," Snape replied.

            "Oh? How is that?"

            "It does not matter. But I know that the Blue Bloods are here."

            "I am afraid my brother may be the leader. We had an argument earlier. It was awful. There is nothing stopping him. Not even my son can reason with his uncle."

            "Lucius, you must try and speak again with your brother Marcus. He must be stopped," Albus stated proudly.

            "Yes… Where did the blood come from?" Snape asked.

            "Excuse me?"

            "The blood, in your brother's office. Whose is it?"

            "I don't know what you're talking about. My dear brother may have done something regrettable I'm afraid to dear Hooch and Potter."

            "Then you have seen them?" Snape asked Lucius.

            "Well, I," Lucius began, unsure of what Snape knew. Lucius paused and looked over at Albus who seemed most interested as well. "I don't know what Marcus is capable of. He may have injured the children."

            "That doesn't answer my question, Lucius."

            "There's no time for all these inquiries. We need to stop the Blue Bloods," Lucius responded and look at Dumbledore fiercely. "I will find my brother. You should speak again with Minerva. You know she is hiding something."

            "McGonagall? What does she have to do with this?" Snape asked.

            "Severus, it seems there are plots forming that we cannot stop. Minerva may be involved due to her brother, Theodore. Nothing is certain. We must all be alert. I will take your advice, Lucius, and put it to good use. Good day."

            And with that Dumbledore left the lab, strolling with less ease than earlier. Snape turned to Lucius, studying his face intensely. Lucius's eye twitched, examining Snape as well. Both peered at each other's looks, every wrinkle and frown and suspicious gesture. After a few seconds, Lucius said,

            "I must leave. I bid you good day."

            Snape stood, alone in the astronomy lab, with no sign of Mister Potter or anyone else about. Something was very wrong. Was Dumbledore just conspiring with Lucius Malfoy? And where were the children? If they had been at the lab, they were no longer there now. Suddenly, Snape's heart stopped pumping. A single thought froze his circulation as he stood in a motionless trance. _I may be too late—Potter is dead._


	13. McGonagall's Unveiling

Chapter XIII: McGonagall's Unveiling

            Nighttime had fallen. Inside the Common Room candles of all arrays lit the room, hovering several feet above each student's head. Blankets of thick texture lined the floor, for most students refused to go into their bedrooms to sleep because another threat could appear and there would be no way of getting to a nurse or doctor. As the last sleeping areas were made, Ron stood next to an almost burnt out fire and next to that, the young lady who stole his heart.

            "Didn't you hear that?" Ron asked Hermione again trying to whisper his words so that the students could not hear him.

            "Ron, you're paranoid. Snape's got you all wound up."

            "No, it's not that. I'm certain. You knew when something is going to happen, something bad, and you can feel it in your veins?"

            "I suppose so."

            "Hermione, I know this is one of those times. And, before something terrible does occur, I have to tell you what I've always wanted to tell you."

            Hermione looked hesitant, her face turning aside as she looked for any one to run to as an excuse. However, she was trapped. Whatever Ron had been trying to tell her she had to listen now. And so, she waited, looking into Ron's shaking eyes and sweaty brow.

            "Hermione, I'm in love with you," Ron said, loud enough for Hermione to hear and even some snickering students around them.

            "Ron," Hermione began, in an innocent, sweet voice. "Ron, I," she started once more.

            "Look!" a student yelled.

            Hermione spun around without finishing. She looked at a first year pointing at the doors and when looking at the doors, she found them starting to move. Inch by inch they opened outward until they were completely unlocked. Two erect doors stood sideways against the outside walls, and a dark pathway to the mysterious world outside was clear.

            "Ron, this is our opportunity. You can go get Professor McGonagall, and I'll stay here."

            Ron's face did not show disappointment that Hermione did not utter his words back. But facades are meant to be deceptive. Inside, his stomach became hollow and a scooper scraped along the edges, taking away all the inner lining that once protected him from anything menacing.

            "Alright?" 

            Ron nodded his head and sighed. He stared off at the hallway and then back to Hermione who had already rushed over to the students to explain their situation. Gradually, he walked out of the Common Room and paced himself so that he did not trip over his own feet in fright. Professor McGonagall's office was fortunately in that part of the building, but Ron still had use to the stairwell.

            As he approached the moving steps, Ron swore he heard laughter. Perhaps it was just his imagine or Peeves playing a practical joke, but whatever it was, it sent chills crawling down Ron's spine. This was a not a most pleasant day and falling down those steps to his death was not what Ron had in mind to complete it.

            "Almost there, chap," Ron said to himself, taking one small step onto the stairwell. As he did, it already began to shift. However, Ron steadied himself, knowing he had been on these stairs hundreds of times before and never had fallen. "Good, you're getting there. Just keep taking small steps. Damn it, Ron, you know better than to look down. Makes you all dizzy."

            Ron froze, nearly tipping off the side. When the stairs stopped shifting, he spotted a lucid path toward the hallway containing McGonagall's office. Ron unbuckled his locked down feet and ran across the twisting steps and downwards to the right and then a little bit up to the left. He continued this until the floor was just in reach. His right foot touched the floor. And then… His left foot touched the floor as well. He had made it.

            "Okay, her office should be right there," Ron told himself and headed to the door. "What am I supposed to tell her? Hey, Professor, us students are a wee bit scared right now. Do you mind telling us if we are going to die soon? And what about these threats? Find out whose behind them yet?"

            Ron laughed at the ridiculous questions that somehow he had to get answered. The locked door stood in front of him. With a shaking hand, Ron knocked on it; however, the door was not locked, just closed. It began to open by itself and without question, Ron naively stepped into the office.

            "We've been inspecting you," a boy's voice said.

            "Harry?" Ron asked, recognizing his best friend immediately.

            "Not exactly," a woman said. "Mister Weasley, please come join us."

            Ron stared into the room, ogling at the three magical people before him. Professor McGonagall, Marcus Malfoy and Harry stood smiling at him. However, they were not the innocent folk he knew. Again, he felt that sensation that screamed to run, but Ron could not leave Harry and leave without answers.

            "I've missed you," Harry said in a more usual voice but still, something not the same. Ron looked over to him, then to Marcus who merely smirked back.

            "Harry?"

            "Ron, did you ever wonder why we could never defeat Voldemort?"

            "But you did!"

            "No, we never really did. Can you honestly think a young, stupid boy like me can defeat his great power? And even so, you cannot destroy all his descendants."

            "I don't know what you mean," Ron said, his body starting to quiver more violently.

            "Yes, you do," said Marcus. "You know that Harry carries apart of Him inside of him everywhere. That cannot be killed. It was only a matter of time before Harry knew he could rejoin his kind, us. He is our leader now."

            "Harry? What is he talking about?"

            "Mister Weasley, it is better for you to come with us. Your blood is pure enough. You do not need to be destroyed. But your family has never supported us. You can be the first."

            "Support who?"

            "We are the Blue Bloods," Professor McGonagall revealed. "Well, apart them. Mister Potter shall help lead us to victory. Marcus has gathered those who he deems first to be with us. Soon enough, you shall see the fields of war plague Hogwarts."

            "You cannot be evil!" Ron yelled at her, trusting his Professor throughout his years at Hogwarts. "Who else is behind this?"

            "What do you mean, who else?" Harry asked, but his voice was so deep and hoarse. "You'd be surprised to know who is with us. Lucius tried to stop us so many times. He even is influencing Dumbledore as we speak. But do not worry, Ron. We have others that can reverse what he has done."

            "Lucius… He's a good guy?"

            "Unfortunately," Marcus interrupted. "We had argued earlier—he was so suspicious that someone had let him go from Azkaban before his trial. That someone was me. The Professor here unleashed her brother as well. They were to take the fall for us. Truly, Ron, does it not make sense? Who would destroy Hogwarts- two respectable Hogwarts employees or two escaped convicts of Azkaban prison?"

            "You were trying to set them up!" Ron yelled. "And you, Harry, you are with them?"

            Harry nodded. "I read a letter once, Ron. It read,

      -Blue Blood-

      To Hogsmead

            I thought it meant for me to meet someone at Hogsmead who was a Blue Blood. No. It was not signed from the Blue Bloods. It was addressed to The Blue Blood. I am that person, Ron. And when the battle begins shortly, you better know who you are."


	14. Thunder of the Giants

Chapter XIV: Thunder of the Giants

            The ceiling trembled. 

            "It is time," Harry growled and stepped back from Ron. He joined Professor McGonagall and Marcus Malfoy at the office desk and huddled in a half-moon circle. Each passed a nodding glance at each other, as if signaling that something was beginning.

            "Harry!" Ron squealed. "Harry, no!"

            But Harry did not respond. His face fell into a shadow for the candles lighting the room (lined around the ceiling and walls) flickered into darkness. Ron could no longer see where his best friend was, but he did hear a thunder in a distance and a crashing of rain. This was no ordinary lightning storm though- there was no lightning streaking through the midnight sky. Then where was the thunder from which sounded so greatly?

            Ron sat in the darkness, unsure of where to turn or what to do. He huddled himself in a rocking position and waited. One minute, one horrendous minute passed by- then another and two more-four twain and Ron stood up. It was no use sitting for what seemed like hours despite it merely minutes or hundreds of seconds.

            "Harry!" Ron yelled as he had before. This time though, there was a response.

            "Glorious fields of Aurani! Our followers have united with us. Giants from the Eastern Mountains, crossing the plains of the forbidden seas and shallow nile, have heard our cry. Winged horses shall flap their thin-skinned branches and shove their breasts high into the night's crisp air. Dementors? Where are thee?"

            This was not the voice of Harry, but it was not unfamiliar to Ron. Paralyzed in fear, Ron stood, eyes unblinking and mouth unmoved at the being he now heard. It could not be, it could not be.

            Light pierced through the room, each candle lit once more and shielded the now crowded room in brilliance. Standing on top of the Professor's desk was the most powerful wizard Hogwarts had ever had, and he shouted the words of evil.

            Ron mouthed the word, "Dumbledore," but nothing came from out his mouth. Surrounding the great wizard was Lucius Malfoy, tied about his mouth with silver threads and next to him holding up his wand was a figure unknown to Ron. He bore a resemblance to Professor McGonagall, and so Ron knew who had must have been-Theodore McGonagall. The wizard forever held up Lucius Malfoy's wand and it glowed in the most brilliant bluish hue like an Elvin prince's eyes glowing amid the crescent moon.

            But Ron noticed something even more peculiar before him. As Dumbledore stood, his arms flailing and voice booming, there was a faint aura around him. Something very thin but still present none-the-less. It was as if a ghostly mist enshrouded him and could only be seen if focused at correctly.

            A blow to his head—Ron felt a heavy punch smash into his skull. His eyes immediately disconnected from the world around him, and his vision became white. Soon, it faded into darkness and the booming figures surrounding became whispers and then nothing at all.

***

            "Stand back!" Hagrid bellowed.

            "Eh no wanna hurte me?" the giant before him asked,

            "Ya dan't understand! Ya wit 'em!" Hagrid pointed at the field of giants crossing the grass of Hogwarts. "After I teach'd ya ta speak, ya turn on me!" 

            "Grawp no turn brother. Eh love Hagrid!" 

            "No, not if ya are on dar side."

            Hagrid's little brother stood, not so little in height actually, towering over Hagrid. Grawp looked down at him and then to the field of his fellow giants. He smiled at Hagrid and grabbed him. His enormous hands squeezed Hagrid's thick frame.

            "Grawp, what ya doin'?" Hagrid asked, his voice pitching up and down.

            But he did not need to answer. Grawp embraced Hagrid, hugging him so close to his chest so that Hagrid had to gasp for air. Slowly, Hagrid was released and fell back to the ground. Luckily, the other giants did not notice or at least did not care about Grawp's affection toward the enemy.

            "Does dis mean yar gonna fight wit me on our side?" 

            Grawp nodded his head and opened his mouth in a foolish grin. His yellow stained teeth dripping in rotting saliva filled the air with putrid odors. Hagrid coughed at the mere smell of its ghastly presence but was used to such foul smells after staying with the giants the previous year. But Hagrid knew he could not persuade the other giants, many foreigners to him from far away islands and icy hills. 

            "Grawp, who summoned all of ya here?" 

            "Da King Wizard."

            "King?" Hagrid asked to himself. He stared at the walls of Hogwarts from outside his hut. He squinted, spotting a tower window of bright light glowing fiercely.

            "Ya, da King of all Wizards. He come in on swift horse to raging mountains two months pass. He tell of great danger, needin' help. Them listen to da King 'cause he promise."

            "Promise what, Grawp?"

            But before Grawp could answer, a thunder clasped. It boomed throughout the air and grounds, shaking the very blades of grass they stood on. The blow of wind crashed into Hagrid's face, covering it with mud and dirt. Grawp's back was encased in dirty soil and as he shook it off like a dog, he created a whirlwind of brown fog.

            Another clasp. But this time, it was not thunder or the giants-there was a shaking of the Forbidden Forest so enormous that the very ground trembled into cracks creating fissures beneath the raging soil. Streaming light, light yellow and tangerine orange, glistened from the outer rims of the tallest, most ancient trees. And with this light came shadows, hundreds of them, running and soaring from the trees now burning in a brilliant blaze of fire.

            "What in the name of—" Hagrid muttered out loud as he gawked the field of scurrying creatures. Centaurs, the hooted beast with horse nostrils and tail but the cranium of a man, galloped in herds but they did not run toward the giants. Instead, they stopped short near the outer edge of Hogwarts behind Hagrid's hut. They huddled together in mass and whispered amongst themselves.

            "Lucifer, be it not now that we defend our home."

            "Always we have defended it and for what? For some great evil to yet again take what we hold very sacred—I will not stand grounded for such barbarism. I will fight. Will you?"

            "I will follow you, Uncle, to redness of Hell or follies of Heaven, be it whichever we end up at when all of this is over," a young Centaur responded.

            "What is this about death? You youth think it all about bravery and dying in honor. We _may _die today. But I guarantee you this. If we do not fight, we _will die_ sooner than later. Our homes will be burned to ashes and those ashes will be scattered across the littered fields of our flesh and bones. Your sisters and mothers will not weep for us because their bodies will lie lifeless just as ours will burning in this blaze of war!"

            Lucifer's words hit the very hearts of his kin. They did not realize how very perilous it was to fight those that plagued their home. If they did not defend Hogwarts now, they would surely die but not just them-their families, friends and the earth which once protected and shielded them from what they held dearest.

            Hagrid watched in amazement as the group of centaurs let out a cheer of battle cry and swarmed toward the darkened Quidditch field, which now held the massive Eastern Giants. As they came toward Hagrid and Grawp, Hagrid suddenly realized his brother could be mistaken for one of the others. The centaurs might remember him from before, when Grawp was tied in the forest. But other creatures may not remember Grawp so well and if one of them were to mistaken Grawp for the enemy… Hagrid had to hide him.

            "Grawp, I don't want ya getting hurt," Hagrid tried to explain. "Dat is why ya must get inside Hogwarts, to the Dining Hall. Da roof is just all enough for ya to fit. Go around da school and find a small pile of red bricks. Knock down dat wall and you'll be in da hallway near da Hall."

            "But then Eh cannot fight wit ya, and Eh promise ta help Hagrid."

            "I know, but I can't loose you-not like dis anyway."

            "No," Grawp said firmly.

            "No? What der ya mean, no? Grawp, get!"

            "No!"

            "Get!"

            "No!" Grawp bellowed a howl that could unearth every dead soul buried. His legs darted forward as he turned around and pounded his feet into the ground. He began now to run toward the Quidditch field, joining the brave Centaurs.

            "Grawp! Get back here! Grawp!" Hagrid shouted after him, but his brother was so defiant that he did not even look back.

"Oh, Lord almighty, shield this world from ever harm and let its kind beauty be its strength," a female's voice sweetened the air.

Hagrid turned about to see a longhaired being floated above the ground. Her dark hair enveloped her, covering her back and most of her back legs. Her pale skin was tinted a metallic silver, and her eyes echoed like a lost sea of wonder. Hagrid smiled and beheld a splendor so magnificent that it was almost unreal.

"Ya are a fine sight ta see. What brings ya ta such a mess?" 

But the strange female did not respond in words. Instead, she caressed Hagrid's cheek, and a melody of enchanting music filled Hagrid's ears. A voice so calm and soothing that nothing surrounding Hagrid seemed important. It did not matter where his brother was or if Hogwarts was destroyed or not. All that mattered was the sweet, nectar-like voice swarming into his gentle mind.

A thunderous clasp in the air made Hagrid's eyes dart to the side. No longer did he see the beauty but the fields of giants in the distance and a hundred centaurs raging toward them. No longer did he hear the sweet sounds of heaven, but heard the battle cries of dying creatures, screaming in bloody pain and torture.

 Hagrid turned his eyes back to where the beauty was. However, he no longer saw the dark haired, fair skinned woman that did enchant him so. A scaled creature, hair thick and knotted and floating about her head, snarled at him with her teeth oozing in brown saliva. And as she eyed him with empty sockets, Hagrid felt the knots of nauseous stab his stomach.

"You're a siren!" Hagrid shouted at the creature, a wicked beauty that lured men to their deaths. But her true exquisiteness was clear to him, a hideous mold of evil.

            "_You're dead_," her voice whispered in a raspy, cold manner. She floated forward, her ten-inch black nail clawing at Hagrid's beard. Clumps of grayish wire fell to the ground in seconds along with trickles of blood from his cut chin and neck.

            "Get off my brother!" Grawp screamed.

            The giant plowed against the Siren, shoving her body into the ground. His meter length feet crushed the corpse into the soil, letting it sink in deep. Thick clomps of blood dripped from the beneath his foot as Grawp lifted it off the ground. A tangled torso of hair, blood and bone protruded from the ground once pure and untouched of such vileness. And as Grawp and Hagrid ogled in both gratitude and revulsion, a thunderous wave of fierce battle roars pierced the air. Centaurs and Giants, opposite in mind and body, flung themselves at one another, their bodies their paramount weapon. As they stabbed into their enemies' hand, another force entered the field, one whose power stopped the very breaths panting from out each Giant's mouth.


	15. The Snitch of Voldemort

Chapter XV:  The Snitch of Voldemort

            "I don't like the sound of this," Hermione mumbled, starring from the largest window in the Gryffindor Tower. Nothing but blackness and smoke clogged the stained glass. Yet the shaking and rumbling of the outside world was heard clear. Something was happening, and it did not sound good.

            "Hermione," a girl's voice entered Hermione's mind.

            "Yes?" 

            "Where's my brother?"

            Hermione turned to see Ginny Weasley, a teenage girl whom she had known for years. Her now short orange hair bobbed around her face, giving it a much more oval appearance. Her matching freckles hid the dozens of blemishes along with a dash of concealer. Ginny's eyelids were now encased in a blue shadow, a shimmery sight reminding Hermione that Ginny was not a little girl but a young lady.

            "Ron isn't here anymore," Hermione said slowly. "I'm sure he'll return soon. What do you need him for?"

            Ginny shrugged. "I don't know." She paused and tried to peek at the smoke covered window. "What the Hell is going on?"

            "Nothing you should be concerned with, Ginny," Hermione replied and attempted to shove Ginny from out of the window's view; but she was not able to push her aside long enough, and Ginny's mouth opened wide, ogling at the massive smoke and dirt being lit every few seconds by flashes of light in the darkness.

            "Ah!" Ginny screeched alerting each student who had managed to fall asleep to awake. Ginny then stumbled back a bit, letting the stone wall catch her before she slumped over. Hermione rushed over, trying ever so hard to block the window while not attracting attention to herself—it was impossible.

            "Ginny, what's wrong? Gryffindors! Go back to bed!" Hermione hissed, her mood fouling every second she felt the presence of disaster surrounding her.

            "Can't you see? Can't you feel the pain?" 

            "Whose pain?"

            "Their pain!" Ginny pointed to the window, still clogged in black smoke.

            "Did you see something out there?" Hermione asked, unable to get any clear view of what was happening outside of Hogwarts.

            Ginny's eyes widened, their pale blue glowing into a gray mist. "How could you not? Those wretched beasts, destroying everything good—I can _feel _their pain, Hermione, and it's awfully dreadful."

"Whose pain?" Hermione asked once more.

"Voldemort is here," Ginny said in a daze.

Hermione flinched and immediately, as if a compulsive response, cupped her hand over Ginny's mouth. She then crawled in closer, lowering herself to Ginny's height. She then said a whispered voice,

"What do you mean, Ginny? Don't be afraid to tell me."

Her eyes still fixated on the window and not once did they glance over at Hermione's face. The delicate teen body now trembled in an upheaval of emotion, crashing down in spasms of twitching and shaking. Her right eye now twitched, her eyelashes so brittle that they snapped with every flutter of the eye. 

"I can feel him again… He is so close," Ginny finally said and then became motionless. Her twitching was replaced by the complete collapse of her body. Her lids fell and body inched downward as if her bones had disappeared.

Hermione shuddered and then realized that she was not alone. Dozens of Gryffindor students huddled about her, gawking at the scene they had just witnessed. Many of them had never even heard someone else mutter the name 'Voldemort'. Bunches of them studied the dark window, focusing on the flashes of light in hopes of seeing the 'wretched beasts' that Ginny spoke about.

"Miss Prefect, why isn't she moving?" a first year girl named Maybelle Radbury asked.

But Hermione froze. She could not possibly explain to the awing eyes of young students who Voldemort was and how he nearly killed Ginny a few years past. Perhaps he still had some hold on Ginny that she could not get rid of. Whatever connection Ginny had to Voldemort now seemed to grasp her by the neck and choke her.

"She's dead," a boy stated glaring at Ginny with cold eyes.

"No, she isn't, Daniel!" the boy's sister yelled. Both were first years, Mandy and Daniel, twins but very easily separated by gender. The two now quarreled amongst themselves, trying to decide if Ginny had died or was merely in some hypnotic state.

"Shut up!" Hermione screamed, her head rising above the students. Her mouth opened wide and she screamed once more. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up, _now_!"

Silence. Immediately, the voices stopped and an eerie quietness took over, much worse than bickering before. Clearly now, thunder could be heard from outside the window. It was nearly impossible not to look at it. And as the Gryffindors watched, they witnessed a bright flash of yellow and orange and enormous shadows bouncing off the light. The ogre-like tinges were plainly seen.

"What are they?" Maybelle asked with her voice much more high but wavering.

"Giants," Daniel snubbed. 

"What are they doing at Hogwarts, Miss Prefect?" one asked.

"Is everything going to be all right?" another one spoke.

"Is she dead?" and yet another one asked.

Hermione cupped her hands over her head and wiped the sweat that trickled from out the opened pores. Lids surrounding her eyes puffed and reddened, her stress heightened-normally, Hermione liked the stress, she liked the added pressure to make her do more, but this was not type she yearned for, not at all.

"Miss Prefect?"

"Miss Prefect?"

"No! Everything is not going to be all right!" Hermione shouted. "And nothing is going to be all right unless we know what is happened and what we can do about it!"

"Where are you going?" Maybelle asked.

Hermione had turned her back to the group and was staring out the window as she had before. Ginny's body was still slumped over, unmoving, facing the window as well. Hermione's lips pressed against the glass, the soft paleness left a white tint, a print of her lips puckered nicely. And after Hermione stepped back, she studied it and smiled.

"I remember when I thought all hope was lost," Hermione began as she turned slightly to face the Gryffindors, "and I remember when young students like you were petrified by a serpent. Those of you who unfortunately were there at the time, you remember this as well. I myself was petrified. But I knew, somewhere in my mind, I knew that everything would all right."

"So, everything will be okay again?"

"No," Hermione surprisingly said. "I don't feel that way anymore. But I do know that sitting up in our rooms and pretending that nothing is happening will not do us any good. I may be expelled for this, but I cannot sit here," she paused, a tear piercing her cheek, "I cannot sit here and watch Ginny deteriorate. I cannot sit here and listen to her say that Voldemort has returned. I cannot sit here, I cannot," Hermione started to hyperventilate. Her breaths became short, uneven gasps. 

"Miss Prefect!" Maybelle yelled and rushed to Hermione's side. She clutched her arm, pretending her from falling over. "What are we going to do?"

Hermione still wheezed for air, trying to clam herself enough to let in the oxygen needed to breathe. Slowly, her pants started to become rhythmic and completely disappeared. Her breathing returned to as normal as they would get. She turned to Maybelle and smiled, one of her eyes darting over to Ginny's body that began to move slightly, revealing that she was not dead.

"Gryffindors," Hermione began, steadying her voice. "Gather your wands and robes. We are leaving the Tower."

Immediately, herds of students rushed out of the Common Room and up the spiraling staircases to their separates wings and bedrooms. A few stayed behind, still ogling at the window and creatures they might face. Daniel O'Grady stayed behind, staring straight into Hermione's face.

"Don't you have a wand?" she asked.

"Are we going to die?"

"Who said that?"

"I've heard about Voldemort. If he's here, we're going to die."

"You listen to me," Hermione growled, her hands gripped Daniel's shoulders tightly. "I have seen Him, and I have seen what He can do. I have seen friends die, and I know what death is. We will die one day, as every one does. It might be today, I do not know… But you must trust me."

The boy gulped, unknowing what Hermione had gone through. "I don't know how to use my wand," he now whispered.

"It's okay. I will help you or find an older student to guide you."

"Thanks, Miss Prefect."

"Hermione."

"Thanks, Miss Hermione."

As Hermione stood, watching the boy gather his wand and robe, she thought about his words. He did not know how to even use simple magic. How were the first years supposed to defend themselves? Even if the older students helped, they could not defend the little ones all the time. But if they stayed in the Tower, they could die anyway from whatever terrors blazed outside and even inside Hogwarts. Her mind had already made its choice. She now only had to convince herself of that.


	16. The Disciples of the Wizard

Chapter XVI: The Disciples of the Wizard

            The battlefield lit up with the flaming torch of one brilliant wand crackling blue streams of light that vanquished all shadows from its path. Backs of unclothed giants glistened; their sweat reflected beads of blue. Sleek fur covering all fear from the Centaurs now shimmered in a radiant brilliance. A cool, calming breeze echoed the breathless silence that now swept along each heroic creature. 

            An orb of flickering white floated from out a Tower's arched window. Its diameter covered nothing more than seven feet but the light it poured out stretched for dozens of that size. As it hovered above the fields of bloody mud and reddened soil, one Centaur, the leader of the group, pranced forward and shouted with a hoarse bellow.

            "Thou dost not scare the likes of mine!"

            "Here here! 'Tis heartily sure. We shall take thy worse blows, and spite we shall blow back," a younger Centaur near him agreed.

            However, the Giants did not seem concerned about this being that shimmered only inches from their large heads. Their immediate shortage of breath was now replaced with blank looks of boredom, as if they waited for some cue to continue fighting once more. As they waited, a small huddle of Centaurs began to dig their hooves into the muddy earth, throwing chunks of flesh and blood into the air. Pieces of deformed kin now flew near the Orb, but nothing could touch it.

            Seeing this, the leader Centaur clutched an iron arrow from out a satchel and tuned it into his fine haired bow. As he strummed it backwards every so gently, he focused his eyes onto the Orb that now hovered still above the fields. With one quick swipe of the hand and release of tension, the arrow jolted upward into a hyperbolic, curved path and flew straight toward the center of the Orb.

            Yet, it was untouchable. As the arrow caressed the Orb's front side, it's sharp tip blunted, and the arrow itself snapped form orbit and fell quickly to the ground below. This was no ordinary spell or enchantment but one that not even the great Centaurs, with charmed bows themselves, could not scratch. Just as the leader began to reach for yet another arrow in attempt to burst the Orb above, a blinding blue light emerged, forcing each Centaur to drop its weapon and clasp its burning eyes in agony.

            "Young brethren, too hastily your blood-lust flows. Follow us, and be spared of such miserable skirmishing. Continue, and forfeit your life to a damnation, where you shall see your kin that chose us wisely reign supreme."

            A loud, formable voice boomed from out the Orb. It echoed some reason but was filthy in sin. The leader of the Centaurs listened and knew quickly to whom it belonged. He had heard this voice many a times ago when peace was brought to the lands; yet now, it seemed his role was reversed. 

            "Great wizard! Sir Dumbledore! What madness has sent you to the enemy's side?"

            "What madness indeed. You speak too quickly, a horse with a silver tongue no less. What name did you call me?"

            "No disrespect, Sir Dumbledore, but you cannot see clearly through these soiled fields. You are fighting for thee wrong side. Cannot you see with your wise grey eyes that these Giants do want to destroy Hogwarts? 'Tis not us thee enemy but thy else."

            "Of course, I was the one who summoned them."

            "You?"

            "Surprised?" Dumbledore asked, his face slowly revealed through the shimmering Orb. The Centaurs now heaved out air heavily, trying not to faint in shame and for dignity's sake. The leader darted his eyes to the Giants and then to Dumbledore and connected such a foul play in his mind. What treachery did the Wizard do? How could this possibly happen?

            "Thou art brainwashed! Squalor has plagued your thoughts! We shall subdue them together, as one!"

            "Neither right you have told. I am not who you think I am," Dumbledore stated and lifted his glowing blue wand.

            "Who are you?" the leader shouted back.

            "I am Dumbledore," he responded, his face grim and wrinkles deep. "I am the Lord of all Wizards, and I command thee to surrender."

            The leader knew these were not the words of the kind, wise Dumbledore he knew. Some power had taken hold of him, perhaps one far greater than ever imagined. Whichever the case, the leader had no chose but to admit defeat to him or face certain death of both himself and his kin. And so, the leader galloped forward to the spot right underneath the Orb, forcing Dumbledore to move back a bit.

            "We shall surrender."

            "Wise choice. Now—"

            "Under the following circumstances," the leader continued to speak.

            "Oh? This should be rather interesting. Go on. Amuse me."

            "You can destroy Hogwarts and all the wizards and witches you desire, but do not touch the Forbidden Forest as you call it. It must remain unharmed. And any damage that you have done to it much be undone."

            "Or, I can burn the woods to the ground and slaughter any of you who dare stand in my way," Dumbledore shouted with his lips and eyes so pale.

            "We will not give up unless you leave our home unscathed!"

            Dumbledore looked down upon the Centaur's staggering body. Gradually, he lowered himself in his protective Orb, and now floated tediously close to the leader Centaur. For a glimpse of a second, Dumbledore released his blue dome, and he drifted unshielded, as if he knew nothing could ever harm him.

            "You have brought your own slaughter then," Dumbledore voiced in a cold, melancholy rasp. "As for the one you call Dumbledore, he cannot save you now. Pray to whatever Lordship you entreat upon, and pray that He does you more justice than those around you."

            The leader stared into the Wizard's gray eyes, and gasped in his revelation. This was not the wise, old wizard he loved and trusted. A beast gawked back at him, one that was thought to have been shattered; yet his power could never be crushed into fine pieces, only slightly crackled and bonded again easily.

            "Voldemort? You are the one controlling Dumbledore? You are the puppet master here?"

            The Wizard chuckled. "Not exactly. He is the one who controls all but I am his successor. When He cannot be here in body, I am here in mind. Kneel down before me."

            "Then you are merely Voldemort's puppet?" the leader shouted, unerring of his words yet heedful of his fatal pride. "Whose shadow are you?"

            But instead of replying, the Wizard lifted his left palm and waved it in front of his face. As the gnarled fingers glided over each ancient wrinkle, they slowly smoothed out and a new face emerged; a shadow, a puppet, his identity took many terms but his power was assured. He controlled Dumbledore and perhaps other leaders within Hogwarts. He was the true villain, and his blood ran deep within the House of Gryffindor.

***

            "Your broom?" Hermione rolled her r's as she counted each students' head in the Common Room. She mumbled the number of wands and older students, trying to calculate how many of them were needed to help the younger group.

            "I don't have one," a first year replied.

            "Hermione, may I suggest that they remain behind," a girl's voice interrupted.

            "Kimberly? Where have you been?"

            "That does not matter," she said slowly, pausing in between each word. Something was very different about her appearance. Although her hair was spiked all wrong and her make-up askew, there was an aura about her face that changed the very being within her.

            "Yes, it does. I haven't seen you around. Have you been with Harry?"

            Kimberly shook her head. "I haven't seen him as of late. But what I do see now are first and second years that cannot even hold a wand nor enchant a spell. They cannot be brought into battle. Leave them here."

            "I cannot leave them alone," Hermione replied, unsure of what Kimberly was doing and why she seemed so abnormal. 

            "I will stay with them," Kimberly suggested. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of them."

            Hermione was reluctant at first. She had not seen Kimberly around nor did she know what she was really up to. However, she did make a good point. The first years were in grave danger if they entered the chaos outside. Perhaps leaving them behind was the best option.

            "Fine. They will stay with you. I hope you know what you're doing," Hermione snipped back at her and began to instruct the younger wizards where to go. As she pointed them toward Kimberly's direction, a gnawing pit scratched at Hermione's stomach. Something felt terribly wrong about this.

            "Hermione," a faint voice whispered.

            She turned to see Ginny wobbling to stand up. Her weakened state made her vulnerable, unable to move without the assistance of the wall beside her. Ginny tripped over her sluggish feet, forcing her to grip onto the windowpane. Her eyes glued outside the image outside as they bulged from out her socket, glowing an unnatural color.

            "Ginny!" Hermione shouted and ran to her side. As she grabbed Ginny's arm, trying to help her back up, she noticed Ginny's eyes fixated again on the window. Hermione peered through the tainted glass and squinted at the appalling sight. "Is that Dumbledore out there?" Hermione asked herself, making out the back of a very tall and gray bearded wizard.

            "He is not Dumbledore," Ginny replied, her eyes so round that her lids were barely apparent. "Ah… Kill him now…. Kill him!"

            Ginny now screamed, her high pitch forcing each student in the room to run from their spots and ogle at the scene. Hermione attempted to hush her by pressing her fingers against her lips, but Ginny continued to moan in pain. This time, she did not collapse as before. Instead, she grabbed Hermione's arms, digging in her trembling fingernails.

            "HE must be stopped."

            "Voldemort?"

            "Stop him now, Hermione. KILL HIM!" Ginny shouted and then rolled her eyes back, letting the whiteness of her eyeballs glare back. Hermione flinched, disgusted by the sight. She then turned to the group of disheveled Gryffindors.

            "You heard her… Third year students and older, mount your brooms. We have some business to take care of."

            And with that, the older Gryffindors gripped their wooden sticks and pressed down on them, letting them hover beneath the ground. One by one the students took flight, each forming a line of pairs so that each student could defend the other one if something came from the other side. Hermione sat on top her Nimbus, leading the pack of wolves to their game.

            "Lower your wands. Keep them secure until needed. Watch each other's back. If someone falls, do not turn away. That could be you in trouble. Under no circumstances do we fall back. Ready your brooms. Ready them," Hermione barked out her orders, a general in a young lady's body. After a slight hesitation, she flew forward her hand and shouted, "Swiftly now, fly on!"


	17. Master of the Puppets

Chapter XVII: The Puppet Master

            His arms felt broken all over with his joints disconnected almost as much as his mind. Half of words mumbled into his thoughts, some vowels and consonants here and there that echoed throughout his throbbing skull. Such a singeing pain touched his brow that Ron believed a hot, iron rod branded him ever so slowly.

            "A nasty blow you took my lad," a man's voice said.

            "Huh?" Ron asked, half looking up at a blurred shadow.

            With every second the room focused more clearly, and Ron could make out the figures of those he saw not too long ago. However, the arched window that staggered ten feet high was now shattered, and Dumbledore was nowhere in sight.  In his place, another man shadowed over Ron, but his left hand was extended downward, as if to help Ron up.

            "Be a good lad, and get up," he said and gripped Ron's shoulder. He pulled his aching body off the ground, letting pieces of a shattered brick fall to the ground. "That chunk of the ceiling hit you hard. I was hoping you did not die."

            "Ceiling? What?" Ron asked, still in a daze.

            "Mister Weasley, can you see me?"

            Ron blinked his eyes a few times and looked at the man holding him by the shoulders. A man, six feet tall with slender legs underneath a tattered robe, stood before him. His face was fallen, thin and frail. A thick golden mustache covered his upper lip while a few strands grew out of his chin. His head, half balding, was covered with a thick, black pointed hat that tilted to the right. Underneath his large spectacles were beady gray eyes resembling very much of Minerva McGonagall.

            "Who are you?"

            "My friends call me unnatural names. You will call me Theodore."

            "As in McGonagall?" Ron asked, remembering the newspaper titles about him being sent to Azkaban prison or at least standing trial for being a Death Eater.

            "The very same. Now tell me, if that bump on the noggin did not affect your memory, which for the both of our sake I hope it did not, what do you about my sister?"

            "Professor McGonagall? She is brilliant witch! She knows more than anyone I know, maybe even Hermione. She would never be a Blue Blood, no matter what you people say about her."

            "By choice, she would not. But, I have ways of persuading my sister and others like her. I possess a gift that no others can touch, and that makes me special. And special people deserve special things as my Muggle part of the family always used to say."

             "You are part Muggle? How are you with the Blue Bloods then?" Ron asked, knowing fully well that Blue Bloods were only pure blooded wizards.

            "That is the point! _I_ will no longer be merely a shadow of a man or a shadow of wizard. _I_ have been promised by Him the blood of the unicorn so that _I _can be pure, like _I_ was meant to be! It is not fair! My sister is a pure blood and look at her! Before _I_ contacted her, she was wasting her life away in this wretched school. Now, look at her! She will be one of the few saved.

            "It was not easy getting hold of her. I was captured as a Death Eater and forced to wait in Azkaban to await my trial just so I could be returned to the very damned place! To Hell with justice and good will, my lad! To Hell with it! I knew I was meant for greater things. That is when He came to be and offered a place with him, as a pure blood and wizard. He came to me in a vision as I slept and told me about whom I needed to speak to.

            "That is when I found Lucius. Mister Malfoy, whose cell was right next to mine, was more than cooperative, loyal to Voldemort. I asked him to deliver a letter to his brother, Marcus Malfoy, who had been offered at a position at Hogwarts—I had read about it in the Daily Prophet—However, it was no ordinary letter I sent. He, Voldemort, himself enchanted my parchment, so that all who touched and read it became one of my followers.

            "Thus, when Lucius touched the letter, whose brother did read it and Marcus then gave it to Minerva, my dear sister, they already became my puppets. Yet, Lucius Malfoy was a much more powerful wizard then I anticipated. As we waited for my sister to help us escape using her advanced magical skills, I noticed that Lucius fought the spell that bound him to me. While Lucius slept, he screamed resistance to me, and I knew that I had to focus my power onto someone else who could mold to my liking.

            That is when it hit me. Who else was almost as powerful as He himself? I knew that when I could take hold of the Great Wizard, Dumbledore, I could control the most powerful, pure blooded wizards. The only thing I had to give Him in return was one thing."

            Theodore paused and turned his body to the boy who stood now before the desk. It was Harry.

            "So as you can see, everything is going as planned. Even as we speak, my charmed young friend, Miss Kimberly Hooch, is annihilating the Mudbloods. My Dumbledore is taking care of those creatures in the Forest that could stand in my way when I would go and retrieve the blood that could make me pure!"

            "You bastard!" Ron screamed. "How could you kill so many innocent lives, all so that you can have pure blood? What is the point? Voldemort will betray you once he has Harry! Or does Voldemort have a hold on even you?"

            "I am the Puppet Master and you are the puppet! I will cut your strings you do not follow my tugs!"

            Ron, his face red and blood boiled, stepped back from Theodore. He swallowed his warm spit, gulping each slimy ball into the empty pits of his stomach. Then, after taking in large, deep breathes, Ron clutched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth.

            Without warning, Ron jolted forward, his palms digging into Theodore's chest. He became to shove him toward the broken window, giving no time for Theodore to dig his heels into the ground. As they were only an inch away from where the glass pane would be, Theodore rolled over onto his side, forcing Ron to trip forward into the opening. His body, with nothing to grasp onto, flew forward into the crisp air, and spiraled toward the battlefields below.

***

            "What in Merlin do you think you're up to?"

            Hermione's broom stopped short. Her frizzed hair fell in front of her face, blocking her vision of the person standing before her. After brushing it away, she immediately recognized a shiny Prefect badge, but it did not belong to the Gryffindor House.

            "We could hear you from across Hogwarts! Where are you taking them?" 

            "Please, do not try to stop us," Hermione pleaded, unwilling to stop when they had not even reached the outside world beyond the walls of Hogwarts.

            "Stop you? No, I want to join you," the Prefect from the Slytherin House said calmly with his own Firebolt in his hand (it must have been gift).

            "Draco, you cannot leave your students alone," Hermione scolded, wondering how he could have possibly left his Tower without his students. 

            Yet, he laughed instead. Hermione gave him a puzzled look as Draco waved his right hand. Suddenly, a swarm of Slytherins flew from around the corner, at least fifty of them, all riding expensive broomsticks and themselves coated with thick Slytherin robes.

            Hermione smiled, her lips perked around the edges as her teeth poked through them. She looked over her shoulder at her students, most of them willing to get any help, even from a Slytherin. And so, Hermione nodded her back to Draco who immediately turned his broom around and barked orders to his own troop of students.

            After a few minutes of yelling, Draco swung back and moved slowly to the side of Hermione. He extended his right hand, cold and clammy, and waited for Hermione to shake it. She did, but felt the strangest sensation that this was not the Draco she once knew more than five years ago. His evil grin and cruel attitude were barely present now to Hermione. Instead, they were replaced with feelings of giddiness and nausea. 

            Quickly, Draco pulled his hand away and began flying forward with his swarm of Slytherins. Without delay, Hermione followed, trying to catch up to his side. It was as if a large Quidditch Match had erupted within Hogwarts, but the teams were not fighting each other. Instead, they flew beside one another, exchanging smiles and affable glances. It was indeed a rare sight to see under the high ceilings of Hogwarts.


	18. Avada Kedavra

**Chapter XVIII:  ****Avada Kedavra**

"What is that?" Hagrid asked himself, watching a small figure fly from out the same arched window that the Orb had emerged from.

            Dumbledore, glaring at the leader Centaur, turned his head slightly with his face still resembling that of Theodore McGonagall. With increasing speed, the figure tumbled downward toward two injured Centaurs who desperately now tried to get up in order to save the boy. However, their broken legs prevented them from doing just that.

            Instead of being concerned like the wise old Dumbledore would be, he laughed and smirked at the thought of Ron being killed. His blood lust grew with every passing second, waiting for Ron to just fall into the earth below, crushed and no longer repairable. However, he would not see that. A giant from the corner of the field emerged, his arms flailing forward in an attempt to catch the fallen Ron.

            "No! Let him die!" Dumbledore shouted, too excited to see the boy crushed. 

            But the Giant did not listen. Rather, his speed increased and before the boy could hit the ground, the Giant's large palms slide underneath him. Ron, unconscious from hitting the hand, was not dead; unfortunately, the Giant who saved him could not be so lucky.

            "You traitor! Avada Kedavra!" 

            And with Dumbledore's shouting of the Killing Curse, a ray of spectacular light flew from out his wand. It was so blinding that no creature could look directly in it. At full blast, it struck the Giant who tried to shield Ron, clutching him near his breast like a mother feeding her young. After a few seconds, the light dimmed and a frozen Giant stood high in the air. 

            "Grawp! No!" Hagrid shouted, watching his dear little brother fall forward, shaking the very earth beneath in one loud 'thump.'

            "You there, retrieve the fallen boy," Dumbledore ordered another Giant who stared back at him blankly. "What's the matter with you? Get that boy back!"

            "You kille my friend!" the Giant growled back, his stance fierce.

            Dumbledore's face grew pale. Three angry Giants approached him from the front side and two more from the back, all of which pounded their fists into the other. A domino effect of hatred entered each Giant's mind, as they felt betrayed by their master. Surely, they would crush Dumbledore's body within minutes if he could not defend himself. With his shaking hand, Dumbledore raised his wand, ready to shout another Killing Curse.

            "No! Don't hurt him!" Hagrid yelled, racing forward toward Dumbledore and his flickering Orb. "If yeh kill him, the real Dumbledore cannot come back!"

            "Yes, yes! You heard him!" Dumbledore agreed.

            "But he kille your brother," the Giant remarked to Hagrid.

            Hagrid's nose prickled, as if pins were striking it. His eyes became teary along the edges, but he could not mourn now—it was not the time for that—saving Hogwarts was more important. With his eyes wiped of their tears, Hagrid stepped in front of Dumbledore and glared into each Centaur and Giant's eye.

            "Destroyin' Dumbledore will rid the world of the greatest, most kind wizard ever. He is not the one to kill. The one who has taken control of him is the one that must be destroyed."

            "Who be that?" the Giant asked.

            "I saw a glimmer of a strange man for a second in his face," Hagrid said, pointing backwards to Dumbledore. "He will tell us who is his master."

            "What makes you think I would tell you anything," Dumbledore said.

            "Whose the one with over a hundred magical creatures ready to tear his limbs apart?"

            "Right…"

            "Yeh, the leader of these Centaurs." Hagrid pointed forward. "Get that info'mation out of him. I must see to something."

            And with that, Hagrid turned around and looked over at Grawp's body, singed and burnt into the ground. Hagrid tried ever so hard to keep in his tears, but seeing his brother, dead, was not something one could forget. As he approached the body, Hagrid's eyes had become puffed, reddened and barely open. His cheeks matched in puffiness, now soaked in water, and his nose stung with mucus flowing. Still clutched in his hand, Hagrid spotted Ron, curled up into a ball.

            "Oh, no. No," Hagrid muttered over and over as he hurried to his limp body. Hagrid pulled over Grawp's dead, heavy thumb which trapped Ron within his grip. There lay a fragile, motionless boy, half of his red hair burnt away and replaced with a pink scalp. His pale skin was sprinkled with black dust and dirt, his clothes ripped and soiled as well.

            "I can't lose yeh both," Hagrid moaned now trying to lift Ron's body from out of Grawp's deadly grip. "Ron?"

            Hagrid placed his ear next to the flattened chest, terrified to hear the silence. But it was not silence he heard. The faintest pitter-patter of his heart echoed out, a slow but sure rhythm, pumping blood throughout his veins. Hagrid sniffled and moved back, staring at the motionless boy; he did not move, but he was not dead.

***

            "Did you hear that thump?" Hermione asked to Draco who now flew right beside her.

            "It came from outside, along with all that other racquet. What do you suppose is happening out there?" 

            "Chaos, misery and death," Hermione solemnly replied.

            "You look terrible with that frown," Draco said. "Your nose gets all funny looking, and you get wrinkles in your forehead. Not very pretty."

            "Well, so sorry I don't live up to your standards, all mighty Malfoy; I should have straightened my hair and put on layers of make-up before going into battle!"

            Draco snickered. "There, you're smiling now. An angry smile at best, but still a smile."

            "I don't understand you, Malfoy," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. "One minute you're decent, and the next, you're your pig-headed self again!"

            They turned another corner and faced the large glass doors revealing the outside world. Both stopped their brooms short, gawking at the chaos before them. Fields of littered bodies, blackness and smoke now shielded their view. As the other students approached the window, they too gasped and gulped, especially the Slytherins who had not seen any of it like the Gryffindors did through their Tower window.

            "I'm just a guy, Hermione," Draco whispered, "Don't expect too much from us when it comes to those matters… But when it comes to battling, I will be your knight in shining armor."

            "I don't need your help," Hermione hissed and flew forward a bit. She turned her broomstick around to face the students hovered around her. "Gryffindors, stay with me. Do not use your magic unless threatened or provoked. We don't need to start any more conflicts. If you are injured, give a fellow wizard or witch a signal so that they may help you. You are all ready?"

            A swarm of confident nods was seen. Hermione turned her broom around once more to face the glass doors and took out her wand. She cleared her throat and was ready to shout a spell to remove the glass when the Slytherins flew forward, shattering the glass with their own bodies. Hermione spun around to Draco who just shrugged his shoulders and gave a funny smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes and followed the pack of Slytherins to the outside world. And for a brief second, she felt bad about yelling at Draco; she did not know why she suddenly felt this way, but those feelings were certainly there.

            Immediately, she shook them off, focusing her mind back to the battlefields before her. Squinting her eyes she could see a bluish Orb and a huddle of Giants and Centaurs around it. However, they were not fighting each other. Instead, they seemed to be working together! But Hermione was sure that she heard battle cries from outside the Gryffindor Tower; how did they suddenly stop fighting?

            Interrupting her thoughts was a shout from Draco. "Isn't that your little boyfriend there?"

            In Hermione's mind, she pictured Harry. Her face lit up but as she turned to see where Draco was pointing at, she did not see her Harry. Instead, Hagrid's arms held a red haired, lifeless body. He stood a few yards away from the body of a dead Giant, one that could not be recognized anymore.

            "Ron!" Hermione screamed and darted forward with her broomstick. She did not care that she was leaving behind her students. Draco could take care of them. Her mind now blocked out the field of Giants and Centaurs and other various creatures scattered about; her focus was set on Ron and if he had died.

            "Hermione?" the raspy voice of Hagrid asked.

            "Oh, Hagrid, is he…" Hermione began to ask, looking at the horrid body of Ron. Hagrid's cheeks were drenched, eyes puffed, and he was short of breath. "He's dead?" Hermione cried out, studying Hagrid's remorseful face.

            "His heart is alive," Hagrid said.

            "Alive… Alive? But, you seem so upset, you seem as if someone died."

            But Hagrid did not have to respond. Hermione peered beside Hagrid's body to look at the fallen Giant, it back resembling something she had seen before. Abruptly, she realized who that Giant was and why Hagrid was so distressed.

            "Grawp," Hermione whispered to herself.

            Hagrid then let out a groan that sent chills down Hermione's body; he fell to his knees, letting Ron's body slip to the ground. Both of his dirt and blood covered hands cupped his swollen eyes, as his breath grew shorter and shorter. Although Hermione did share some of that pain, she was more relieved that Ron was alive. She felt foolish and guilty; she should have been comforting Hagrid, but she could not. All she thought about was if Ron had died. She had been so selfish, thinking only about other boys like Harry or even now Draco; never did she once see Ron as more than just a friend, and now, with his body lying so lifeless, she wish she had.


	19. The Heroine and the Hero

*Note: This is a very important chapter. Please read carefully*

Chapter XIX: The Heroine & the Hero

            "I think I saw something," Daniel O'Grady whined as he ogled out the window.

            "I told you, keep away from there," Kimberly said. "I want all of you to come over here near the fire."

            Having no other choice, the first and second years huddled around the almost burnt out fire. They whispered amongst themselves, scared that they might suffer the same fate as Ginny, who now lay half awake on the floor near the window. Every few second she would open her eyes and stare at Kimberly. When she made eye contact with her, Ginny suddenly jolted and then fell again into a sleep.

            "I am sorry to do this to you," Kimberly started, reaching for her wand, "but He has left me with little choice as well."

            The first years exchanged confused glances. Bewildered, they watched as Kimberly Hooch's body glowed an aura of blue and white mist. She smirked as she took out her wand and pointed it first at the fire, lighting it with a blue blaze and smoke. Then, she turned around and grinned an unpleasant smile.

            "Kim, what are you doing?" Maybelle asked in a sweet voice as she always does.

            Her response was clear. As she lifted her wand, her steadied her arm and stretched it toward the Maybelle's face. Such a milky complexion faced her, dainty green eyes and flowing blonde hair, half of which was now tied messily in the back. Maybelle's lips mouthed the word "no" but Kimberly ignored such pleas. Somewhere, she knew that this was wrong but the larger screamed for her to kill.

            "Crucio!" Kimberly screamed with flames bursting out her wand and right at Maybelle's unblemished face.

            However, the girl did not scream back in pain, as she should have. Instead, she stood there with a confused look, waiting for the worst to happen. Kimberly glared at Maybelle and then to her wand as she shook her head.

            "You're too young to use those spells," a girl's voice echoed.

            "How would you know?"

            "Because Voldemort tried to do the same thing to me," she said as she limped from her spot at the window and staggered to Kimberly. "I know, you won't even remember this when this is all done with, but believe me, you will remember when you see all those you hurt."

            "Shut up, Weasley," Kimberly yelled back. By now, Ginny was only a few feet away from Kimberly and the fire, with her aching body barely able to stand still.

            "Your spells cannot harm me," Ginny said with a more confident voice, "because you are too young to control your gifts. Sure, Voldemort may have chosen you but what will he do with you now that you cannot fulfill your task? What now, Kimberly? What now!"

            "I will do as He says!" Kimberly howled and then lifted her wand, pointing it at Ginny. 

            "Can't you seen what he's doing to you? Tell me, Kimberly, if he had to kill the one you loved, would you? Just because Voldemort wants you to?"

            Harry. Kimberly's mind shifted to Harry's dead body, killed by a curse that she had yelled at. Her wand still sizzled with smoke as Harry lay there, staring straight up into Kimberly's eyes with a look of 'how could you?' Immediately, Kimberly shrugged the thought away, unable to concentrate on her mission.

            "You can picture it, can't you? What Voldemort can force you do… I had to kill chickens, Kimberly, with my own teeth! Digging my jaw into their necks and cracking them. Their blood ran deep into my throat, and I could smell their raw hides!" Ginny stopped and squinted her face, trying to forget those horrid memories. "And after Harry saved me from Voldemort's grip, at first I did not remember all that I did… But I read about, I heard about it from others, and soon, your memories will return to you."

            But Ginny's words did not seem to faze Kimberly. Her wand still fixated at Ginny's face, shaking ever so slightly. The first years had scooted back to the far side of the Common Room as Ginny and Kimberly yelled at one another. They tried not to whisper; they did not want to provoke the enemy any more.

            "Put down your wand, Kim," Ginny commanded, her hand reaching toward the wand, "Or I will have to take it from you."

            "Then take it!" Kim screamed and jolted forward, waving her wand. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!" But her curses did nothing. She did not have the skill or experience to carry out such a dangerous and forbidden curse. "Crucio!" her last scream was full of tears and a shattered pitch.

            "Confundo!" Ginny yelled using her own wand. However, her spell worked.

            Kimberly stopped in her tracks and looked about in a daze. She looked over at the first years and smiled an innocent grin as if she had done nothing before. 

            "What did you do to her?" Maybelle asked from across the room.

            "She is very confused right now," Ginny said smugly. "Quite Confunded indeed."

            The first years gawked in amazement. "What will happen to her?"

            "Right now, she does not know where she is or what is happening. But we can tell her anything, and she will believe it. Kimberly," Ginny said and snapped her fingers to get the dazed girl's attention, "You are a very good girl who does not want to kill anyone. You are actually a bit tired and want to take a nap." Kim smiled back and then fell back onto the ground. She immediately closed her eyes. Ginny smirked to herself, praising her brilliant abilities.

            "Ginny the Heroine!" Daniel O'Grady shouted.

            "Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," the first years chanted. Ginny stood there, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride. She had saved them momentarily, and it felt so good.

***

            "I heard screaming!" Snape yelled as he rushed into Professor McGonagall's office. "Are you all right, Minerva?"

            "She's never been better."

            Snape jerked back, unaware that his friend had company. "You look familiar."

            "I should. My face has been splattered across every damn magical paper."

            "Theodore. You're standing trial."

            "Do I look like I'm standing trial, Mister Snape?" Theodore laughed in a sarcastic tone and looked over at Harry who stared off into space. 

            "Potter! There you are!" Snape yelled and stepped forward.

            "What are trying to do? Be the hero here and save the boy! This time, he will not be the boy who lived! He's the boy who died!"

             "So the papers were right… You are a Death Eater," Snape muttered.

            "No! I do not blindly follow him! I am his partner! I am a Blue Blood!"

            "Can't you hear yourself? You're blindly following Him right now as we speak. You're willing to kill an innocent boy for whatever He has promised you in return."

            "Harry Potter is not innocent!" Theodore yelled and ran toward Harry. He grabbed him and stared into his eyes. "This is not the look of innocence! It was not for him, Voldemort would be alive now! Instead, He's just a shade that must rely on help of loyal friends."

            "Oh, so you think you are Voldemort's friend, now? If you two are so close, why don't you call him here, right now. Go on, I'd like to see this shade you speak of. I promise, if you can conjure up this claimed shade, then I will not stand in your way when you hand Mister Potter over to him."

            "I like promises… Very well then," Theodore said and let go of Harry. "But be careful to whom you make your promises to. I will hold you for it."

            "And I aye you. If you cannot call him, will you promise to die?"

            "What?!"

            Snape smiled. "I will hold my wand against your chest." He took his wand and stuck in between Theodore's nipples, pressing hard against the rib. "And you all your friend here. If successful, he will surely save you, and all will be fine. If, however, Voldemort has turned his back on you, you must promise not to fight me when I kill you."

            Trickles of sweat poured down Theodore's forehead, dampening his chin and causing it to hive out. His eyes fluttered from side to side, looking over to the boy and then back to Snape's serious face. He could not help it but start to gasp for breath, realizing that perhaps He would not respond. Immediately, he shook the thought from out of his mind, and he knew that He would come, or at least he desperately hoped he would.

            "Well?"

            "All right, all right," Theodore began and cleared his throat. "I, Theodore McGonagall, successor of the Dark Lord, my friend, Voldemort, command for He to appear now and claim his prize, Mister Harry Potter."

            Silence.

            "Voldemort, I command for you to appear!"

            Silence.

            "Please, Sir Dark Lord, Prince of Darkness, whatever title you wish, please, come now!"

            He felt Snape's wand press harder against his rib, hitting so close to his lungs and heart. But still, there was nothing. Snape's grin widened as he prepared destroy the Death Eater he saw before him.

            "Please, Severus, do not hurt my brother."

            "Minerva?" Snape asked as he raised his head. The wise woman stepped forward from the shadows and placed a cold hand on Snape's shoulder. "Minerva, he is not your brother anymore. Voldemort has him, and there is no way of bringing him back."

            "He is but a foolish man, but not an evil one, I assure you."

            "I'm sorry, but your words do not comfort me." Snape pressed harder with his wand. "He must be killed."

            "No," Minerva said and stepped closer to Snape. "He has brought to you whom he promised to bring."

            "What are you talking about? I do not see him."

            "He is right next to you," Minerva said in a cackling laugh. "And he has come to take his prize."

            Minerva stepped over to Harry and touched his skin, caressing it softly with her fingers. "How I wished to kill you within my own body. But this body will have to do for now. Thank you, Theodore, your Mudblood impurity is not needed anymore."

            She waved him off with her hand and with the middle finger. Theodore gawked at her and then to Snape. "I swear, I did not know He had taken her body. If I had known…"

            "Silence! Let me savor this moment," Minerva hissed and bent over toward Harry. She sniffed the air and gulped the smells. "The smell of such a bastardly innocence. Goodbye, Mister Potter."

            Harry stood there, still under Theodore's spell from before. He was unable to defend himself, to keep away Voldemort and his fated death. Snape tried to step forward but he could not move—the Dark Lord prevented anyone from interrupting him. Snape then turned to Theodore.

            "Release Mister Potter from your spell!"

            "What?" Theodore asked, ogling at the sight before him.

            "We cannot stop Him now. You can see that you meant nothing to Voldemort. You were merely another pawn in his game. He needed you to get to your sister, and you fell for it. But it's not over yet… Release Harry! Now!"


	20. The Stand Off

Chapter XX: Stand Off

            "I don't know how!" Theodore shouted back.

            "It's your spell, release him."

            "No, I did not put the spell on him; he willingly joined us."

            "Liar! Release him!"

            "I swear, I did not enchant him in any way."

            "Then who did? Someone must have. He's not fighting or moving… Who could have gotten to him before you?"

            "There are many of us," Theodore replied. "Any one of them could have enchanted Harry… However, if he touched one of the Mudblood letters…"

            "You mean those threats? You sent them?"

            "I created them, yes, with my sister's help. All this time… Voldemort has been using my sister's body. Why couldn't he have just used me? I would have gladly shared him within me, to feel his power…"

            "I don't know, nor do I really care. We don't have much time! If it was one of your letters that enchanted Harry, then only you can undo it. What spell did you use on the letters? What spell?!"

            Theodore muttered to himself. "He did it."

            "What did you say?"

            "I said He did it," Theodore shouted. "Voldemort told me to create them. I merely followed his plans, I merely did what I was told, I merely knew so little, if—"

            "You must remember the enchantment! Think, Theodore, quickly, before it is too late!"

            Theodore stared off at Harry who now stood palely in front of Minerva. His eyes glistened, reflecting off her half moon spectacles. There was no fear in him left, just a fragile shell easily broken. But the words to the spell! Theodore could not remember. It was so long ago, ages to him, although weeks in reality. He had heard a voice while sitting at Minerva's desk the day before Hogwarts opened.

            "McGonagall, I am pleased that you have made it this far… Now, we must complete our plans," a voice echoed out of nowhere to Theodore. Little did he know that Voldemort was waiting for Minerva and had assumed that she was under his control already. Voldemort's sense had grown weak as of late and so he could only sense someone by their blood. Unfortunately, Minerva and Theodore were brother and sister and so their blood was all too similar.

Theodore spun his chair about and twisted himself as to find out where the voice came from. However, after concluding that the voice was in his own head, he stood up and hovered behind the curtains, playing with draped red and burgundy silk.

"How should I complete them, Sir?" Theodore said to himself.

He responded, "Follow the guides I have placed out three, and do little to interfere with she; When all is complete and all is done, You know who to bring, the One."

"The One… The One who… The boy who lived?"

But there was no voice to riddle back this time. Theodore was alone. There was a knocking at the door and afraid that some teacher had returned early, he rushed behind the curtains and wrapped them around tightly. He waited until he heard footsteps leaving in the opposite direction. Slowly, he emerged and tiptoed to the doorway.

He pushed the doors with a heavy heave and as they creaked, Theodore sighed to himself. To his relief, no person stood there. Instead, however, a golden-feathered pen lay still on the ground. As he reached toward it, the pen itself hovered and shook eye level with Theodore. 

"What in blazens is this?" he asked as he attempted to snatch the pen from the air. His hand shivered and missed each time, the pen darting from his reach. Finally, he gave up and turned his back to the feathered pen.

Just as he did so, the pen struck the back of his head with full force, oozing a gold metallic liquid into his head. As it did so, Theodore lost all sight. A vision glowed before him a gleaming white light. The words were so clear to him, the enchantment so simple.
    
    **               "**Ab'rum'pe Nunc!" 
    
                   A flash of blue engulfed Harry. Snape disappeared from Theodore's sight, as did his sister. Everything was sparkling blue, like a distant ocean untainted by human sin. Such a richness that for a second, Theodore thought he was marooned on some island overlooking the Pacific West, a mirage of azure paradise.
    
                   Theodore fell. A body smacked into his own, thrown from an unknown force. He had tumbled backward into a wall and felt a surging pain below his beltline. As he tried to lift the body off of him, he realized the delicateness of the body's fair skin. Obviously, it was not Snape as he had assumed at first it was.
    
                   "Minerva?" he asked.
    
                   Her gray eyes stared back like two marbles gleaming. She smirked her left side, leaving the right paralyzed. One dimple creased near her wrinkles as she tried to speak.
    
                   "Gryffindor Twenty-Two, Slytherin Thirty, Seeker Spots the Snitch," she mumbled before closing her mouth and eyes.
    
                   "Minerva? What does that mean?" Theodore asked but she was unconscious. As he held his sister in his arms, he spotted a limp boy being held in another figure's arms.
    
                   "Mister Potter?" Snape asked, trying to revive the boy. "Harry, are you alive? Answer me," he said in a much more serious tone. When Harry did not reply, however, Snape yelled, "Potter, you're late for class! Detention!"
    
                   Harry twitched. His left eyebrow rose, and suddenly, with a jerk of the body, he flew forward. He shifted his eyes toward Snape's smiling face, a distant departure from his usual frown. The rest of the room was a blur, half of his vision misty in a bluish white haze.
    
                   "Where am I?" Harry faintly asked.
    
                   "You're safe."
    
                   "Where's Kimberly? Ron? Hermione?"
    
                   "As for your friends, their fate is more serious… I'm afraid they may joined the others outside."
    
                   "So?" Harry asked, unaware that the raging battle has begun.
    
                   "Darkness has clouded Hogwarts… Even with the McGonagall's released from Voldemort's grip, He cannot be truly defeated. Potter, I want you to stay here. I will go and check up on your little friends."
    
                   "Are you crazy?" Harry screamed and jumped to his feet. A startled Snape quivered his lip slightly. "I have been through more hell than imaginable, and you don't want me to help you?"
    
                   "You're weak. I just thought that with all this and your apparent lack of memory that you would prefer to—"     
    
                   "Prefer this," Harry said and lifted his hand. He shoved Snape backward. Then, without saying a word to Theodore or Professor McGonagall, he hurried off toward the Gryffindor Tower. He hoped his friends, Ron and Hermione, were still there and ready to greet him.
    
                   As he ventured toward the room, Harry noticed the hallway was in a bit of a jumble. Paintings tilted sideways and archways seemed to have chipped taken out, as if a large force had rushed through them recently. Harry approached the doors and noticed one was open all the way. He peeped his head into it and caught a glimpse of red hair.
    
                   "Ron!" Harry yelled and rushed into the room.
    
                   However, a girl turned around. "Harry!" she shouted.
    
                   "Ginny," Harry said. "Where's Ron?"
    
                   "He's been missing like you. I think she had something to do with it," Ginny said and pointed to a napping girl on the couch. He immediately recognized it as Kimberly.
    
                   "She's all right! Thank goodness."
    
                   "Harry, you shouldn't be worried about her! She tried to kill us all."
    
                   "Who, Kimberly?" Harry asked in disbelief.
    
                   "Yes, her. She's not as innocent as she looks… Anyway, I'm worried about Hermione. She's been away with the older year wizards for such a long time."
    
                   "Where did they go?"
    
                   "Out there."
    
                   Ginny pointed at the black window. Slowly, Harry walked toward it and looked through the smoggy glass. Down below he witnessed a field littered with a pile of Giants. They looked like a pyramid. Beside them were Centaurs, always charging toward some being underneath. They were not throwing weapons or stones at the being. Instead, from the movement of their mouths, they were yelling at it.
    
                   "I don't see Hermione or R," Harry said. However, he stopped himself and felt a pulsating rhythm bursting from his heart. He recognized Hagrid's back off in the distant. There were two figures, so small from Harry's view that he could not confirm that it was his friends. However, he did not need to see his friends to know it was them. Something inside of him screamed that they were in danger. And he listened to that scream and answered with yell,
    
                   "Get me my broom!"


	21. The Fallen Heroes

Chapter XXI: The Fallen Heroes

            "Who's that?" Hagrid softly asked as he spotted a small, black figure flying toward him.

            "Harry!" Hermione screamed. "Over here! Harry!"

            He slowed down a bit as he approached the towering half-giant, a weeping girl and a limp, red-haired boy. After his broom came to a halt, Harry jumped. However, he was nowhere near the ground when he did this, a good twenty feet at least. As he tumbled onto the mossy ground, fragments of sticks and glass cut into his face-it became encased in dirt and blood. These few cuts produced streams of red, as if he had been fatally wounded.

            "Oh my… What…" He was speechless. Harry did not even notice his injury. Instead, black smog clouded the air. It was so thick that Harry could only make out the shadows of centaurs and giants. A tint of burnt red shaded the lining of the sky. Its richness filled Harry's mouth with the taste of bloody death. It was a most horrid pallid that he would never forget.

            "It's awful!" Hermione's face fell onto Harry's right shoulder and chest. He immediately woke from his trance and stared at Hermione in a daze. Thick droplets of blood fell into Hermione's hair. Harry tried to brush it off with his left palm, carefully trying not to startle her from her already shaken state.

            As he did this, Harry noticed that Hagrid not only clutched what appeared to be Ron but also swayed near another body. It was lifeless. Suddenly, it hit Harry. That belief that he held onto, that people die for a reason, it was gone. His parents died to save him; Sirius died for him; but Grawp… Why him? For what reason? And as if Hermione read Harry's thoughts, she said,

            "He tried to save him."

            "Pardon?" Harry said quietly.

            "Grawp. He caught Ron. As he fell. But He killed him. Grawp's dead, Harry!" Hermione moaned. She let out such a painfully dreadful screech that even Hagrid stopped staring at his brother's corpse momentarily.

            "Where is He?" Harry asked, biting down on his teeth. He clenched hard, so that no foul words could be said, those terrible words he wished to curse. The muscles in his neck tensed. Blood rushed to his brow, letting more blood trickle down his face. 

            "Dumbledore was Voldemort. That is to say, he possessed him or used some enchantment on him. I'm not quiet sure," Hermione stumbled for words. "I think he's gone now."

            "No! I feel him. I know I do!" Harry shouted. "Right here." He held his gut tightly and let out a groan of utter pain.

            "Harry, I think you're hurt. Much more than you're willing to admit."

            "I'm better than Ron at least… He is," he paused. "He is alive, isn't he?"

            In all the chaos, it didn't fully occur to him that Ron might be dead. His body looked so peaceful in Hagrid's arms, so restful, so deadly pale.

            "For now, he is. But if we don't get him help, he may not be for very long. Harry, you're bleeding everywhere! You're not all right."

            "Hermione!" Harry gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him in the eyes. "No one is all right! Not Ron, not you, not Hagrid, not me… No one will be all right! As long as he is a live! Do you hear me? No one!" His voice echoed eerily.

            "Stop it! Stop it, stop it." She cried. Harry never wanted her to shed a tear because of him. And there she was. Wetness stained her beautiful face. "Why can't you just believe in the hope of something good will happen?"

            "I can't, because I've seen the truth." He stared down. "I've tasted the death of others. Not just now. Did you have to see Cedric die? Face Voldemort? Did you see the only family you had left fall right in front of you? Have you? No." Harry's blood poured out of his wounds; most of his face was no longer visible. His robe was soaked.

            "Yes, Harry! I have seen death before! Look, right there!" She pointed at Grawp. "And that's not at all." Harry rolled his eyes slightly, but just enough for Hermione to catch him. She continued. "You actually think that Sirius—"

            "Don't say his name! What right do you have?!"

            "That Sirius was your only family? If you believe that, then I pity you. I'm your family. Ron is. Hogwarts is. If you can't see this now, then…"

            Harry fell. His body smashed into the ground, his blood smothering his face. His chipped face was buried into the dirt below. Hermione's heart shot up. She felt a pain in her heart and twitching inside her stomach.

            "Harry!" Hermione screamed. Her yelling would do no good. "Somebody! Help us!"

            Hagrid was stuck in a remorseful trance. He did even flinch when he heard Harry hit the ground. Hermione's glossy eyes raced around her. She could not see anything but black smog. Slowly, she lay down head next to Harry's back. She wept, believing she had just lost Harry to the other side and soon Ron as well. Her body shed away all the love of life she had. And then she closed her eyes.

            Every bed was full. Madame Pomfrey washed the foreheads of dozens of young wizards with wet clothes. Centaurs walked about with arms in casts and patches over eyes. They too helped out healing the severely wounded. Ron lay still in his corner. White sheets and a canopy of white curtains shielded him from all around him.

            Harry slept a few beds to the right of Ron. Hermione sat on a wooden stool at his side. Behind her was Draco. His head was badly gashed open. However, that did not surprise Hermione. She had seen dozens of wizards within the last hours come in with nearly fatal wounds. Snape, the McGonagalls and Dumbledore were nowhere to be found or seen. Lucius and Marcus Malfoy were discovered both unconscious on the battlefields along with a few dead centaurs, now resting in a warrior heaven, and one giant.

            "He's not awake yet?"

            Hermione turned to see Ginny. Her hair was nicely straightened and make-up smeared across her face. Perhaps she was trying to impress her dying love. Too bad for her he wasn't actually dying.

            "No, Ginny, he's not. And neither is your brother." Hermione could not believe Ginny that Ginny was more concerned for his crush than her own blood brother.

            "Oh, Ron. I saw him earlier. Pomfrey said he's in some sort of coma. I don't really want to think about it. Well, since Harry's not up yet, I might as well go. Good day."

            Hermione watched as Ginny left with a hint of disappointment in her eyes. Hermione knew that Ginny liked Harry a lot, but she loved him.

            "Am I dead?"

            Hermione gasped. She spun her head around to see Harry's eyes wide and mouth wide open. His jaws widened even more when he narrowed his sight onto Hermione's face. He was unaware where he was or why. The last thing he vaguely remembered was seeing Ron, Hagrid and Hermione off in the distance on some field.

            "No, Harry, you're not dead!" Hermione said in a sweet voice. "You're very much alive."

            "How did I get here… And where is here exactly?"

            "Oh, you don't remember do you. Of course not, you were unconscious. After our little talk, you collapsed, Harry. Gave me a heart attack by the way." She giggled but Harry did not, his skin growing pale. "Oh, that was joke. I was kidding. I didn't really have a heart attack. You just scared me with the whole collapsing thing. Anyway, you lost a lot of blood. It was awful. I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, I was floating here thanks to Madame Pomfrey and a few centaurs. You were floating right next to me for most of the time. I was treated for a few bruises here and there, but nothing serious. I helped out a bit too. But poor Ron…"

            "I think I remember… Ron wasn't moving."

            "No. And he still isn't." She was silent.

            "Dead?"

            "Almost. He should be though."

            "Hey! What do you mean by that?" Harry asked.

            "Oh, no, I mean he was supposed to be hit with the killing curse. That's how Grawp died. I think Ron still was hit with some of it. Luckily for him, Grawp most of it."

            "Yes, Grawp, I remember that. How's Hagrid holding up?"

            "He isn't. He went off into the Mountains. Oh, not permanently! Just for a little while."

            Harry sighed and said, "Who will take over for him?"

            "He'll be back next year, Harry, don't worry."

            "No, I mean for now."

            "You don't know, do you? Oh, how could you know."

            "Know what?"

            Hermione took a deep breath. "They're closing down Hogwarts for the rest of the year. That's what I've heard."

            "Why?" Harry leaned forward and then grabbed his side, still in obvious pain.

            "I haven't seen it for myself, but almost half of Hogwarts has been damaged or destroyed. The Hufflepuff tower has crumbled to the ground. There must have been more Giants than we knew about."

            "But they're going to fix it right? Dumbledore will—"

            Hermione shook her head. "We don't know where he is. I heard a centaur named Lucas say he was sending Theodore back to Azkaban Prison."

            "Where he belongs."

            "It scares me, Harry."

            "I'm sorry, what scares you?"

            "That He, Voldemort, could so easily take control of someone. If He could get Dumbledore, there is no stopping him."

            "He didn't get us," Harry said. "He's not coming back."

            "Oh? How do you know?"

            "I don't. Not for certain. It's just a feeling I have."

            "Feelings lie, Harry."

            "No, not this time…" Harry stopped when he saw Kimberly Hooch enter the room. He thought for sure she was there to see him. However, she didn't go to Harry's bed. Instead, she went to the one right next to him. She leaned over Draco's body and kissed his cheek.

            "Are you okay?" she asked. "You brave boy." Her flushed forehead and rosy cheeks rang bells in Hermione's ears. At least Draco has someone, she thought.

            "Hermione," Harry faintly said.

            "Yes?"

            "I made you cry."

            "I know. It's okay. We said some things, both of us… It's really okay."

            "I never want to make you cry again."

            "You better not."

            Harry smiled and so did Hermione. In a room of pain, stitches, bandages and bleeding wounds, the two wizards stood out with gleaming grins. Two glimmering diamonds in a field of aching dust. Despite all of the despair they went through recently, the goodness was still alive and strong. They had each other, and that was more than they could ask for.

-Last chapter completed and will be posted at a later time. Please review!-


	22. Twelve Grimmauld Place

Chapter XXIII: Twelve Grimmauld Place

Over the following day, Madame Pomfrey and her collection of centaur nurses treated a good one hundred witches and wizards. Only six giants stayed to help rebuild Hogwarts while the rest took Grawp's body home with them for the proper burial. Hogwarts still looked like a war zone, but most importantly, without the war. Harry was released from the hospital. Unfortunately, Ron was not as well. His coma had not improved at all. His parents were called in but only under one condition. The state in which Hogwarts was in could not be revealed to anyone. That's what the teachers were up to. They were attempting to keep things under wraps with the press and Ministry of Magic. If word got out that He was able to take control of students and the Head Master, Hogwarts would surely be shut down for good.

The main cover up devised was being spread at a vicious speed; the rumor was not detailed, so that it could not be fouled up too much. During an experiment in one of Mister Snape's classes, a student accidentally spilled some vial potions and a glass jar full of chortling gas (much like laughing gas but it lasts for several weeks on those who breath it in). Thus, several dozens of students had to be hospitalized until the gas wore off. However, under all the magical potions can be cleaned up, Hogwarts will have to be shut down until the following year.

Dumbledore was making sure that Theodore McGonagall got his new home. Not Azkaban Prison. He would go to St.Mungo's, yet not as a patient; he would be a resident nurse. There, he could be watched and do some good to the magical society.

Back at Hogwarts, students well enough to walk had to leave for home at once. They were informed by Madame Pomfrey and the centaurs what to say to their parents and family when the questions should arise about their early return. Harry was not going back to the Dursleys however. He remembered what Sirius had told him, that he could live with him. Even with Sirius's unfortunate passing, Harry wanted to take him up on that offer. The Order of the Phoenix made special arrangements for Harry. He received a letter, or a note rather, shortly after leaving the hospital wing.

—It's all yours— it said. The envelope was unmarked except for a small seal with silver lettering barely reading the address _12 Grimmauld Place_, and the letters, _do you remember the way?_

Harry stood in the Gryffindor tower collecting his things. Ron's side of the room was a mess. He left a small envelope on the bed telling Ron to come to Sirius's home if was well enough. Inside the envelope, he also shoved in some Bertie Botts Beans and chocolate frogs (only two, so they wouldn't fight).

"Harry!" Neville shouted.

"I'm almost ready," Harry said back and then shoved the remaining pieces of clothing into his suitcase.

"Harry!"

"What? I said 'I'm almost ready'!"

"Someone's here to see you, Harry."

Harry grabbed his things and slide down the stair's railing. When he tumbled to the bottom, he saw two enormous feet covered by dark brown boots. Hagrid stood in them, draped in a black robe to match the beaten circles under his puffy eyes.

"Hermione said you went to the Mountains!"

"I did," he said. "When I was almost there, I said to myself, 'What in blazes are yeh doin', Hagrid? The boy needs yeh now. And so do yeh.' So I turned back. I hope your godfather's home is big enough for me."

Harry's mouth opened wide, eyes glistened and he panted for air. He didn't care how Hagrid knew about the letter or if he really even left for Grawp's funeral. That didn't matter to Harry at all.

"You're telling me you're going to live with me?"

"If I'm welcome," he said.

Harry jumped into Hagrid's arms. "Always."

"Very good. Now, erm, we better be off. The train can't wait for all of us."

And so, a hoard of wizards solemnly left Hogwarts with the early Spring sun shining on their backs. The Hogwarts Express was not as cheery as they wanted it to be. But, they made the best of it. Calming music played in the background of each cart. Harry sat with his owl, Hermione across from him with Crookshanks and Neville Longbottom sitting where Ron should have been. It was all too awkward, too different. They sat in silence the whole way home.

They made a special stop for Harry and Hagrid (at Hagrid's request of course) at the Kings Cross Station. A few blocks away, about a twenty-minute walk for them, was Sirius's home. Or, what should have been his old home.

When they arrived, there was nothing. In between two Muggle homes, there was an empty lot where a house should have been. That building that Harry remembered so clearly, where he had to be hidden to be safe from Him, his safe-haven was gone. How could it just disappear? It was impossible.

"Forgive me, Harry. It's that Fidelius Charm. Dumbledore said it should be visible once he unlocks the spell for us. Don't worry about them. The Order of the Phoenix relocated. Or that's what I was told. Anyways, where is the old wizard? He was supposed have to done this for us already."

"I'm sorry, Hagrid, I was held up in some traffic."

A tall wizard with a long white beard and a dark blue robe walked out from the invisible shadows. It was as if he teleported but at the same time, he didn't. Then, he floated down steps. Steps that neither Harry nor Hagrid could see, but clearly, Dumbledore was walking down them. As he approached Harry, a smile creased his face.

"I am the most fortunate wizard to still have you alive and well, my dear Mister Potter. I am proud to tell you that Sirius left you this in his will… After some last minute corrections." Dumbledore winked his eye, as if he was telling Harry that the house originally was not going to be his. Harry shrugged.

Dumbledore then turned around and whispered something. He lifted his wand and mumbled more words barely even made out to be whispers. When he was finished, he walked away toward Kings Cross Station. There was still nothing there.

"Hagrid, isn't it supposed to be visible now?"

"Patience, Harry, any minute now."

As they waited, Harry could not help it but think whom the house was supposed to go to and who could have changed the will. The only other family he could think of was the Malfoys, but they would never give it up so easily. Perhaps it was always remain a mystery to him.

Suddenly, a black door gleamed. A silver serpent for a handle emerged from the shadows. It glistened and beckoned to be touched. Hagrid rushed forward and opened the door before the rest of the house was even visible. He quickly threw down his suitcase into the doorway and unbuckled it.

"Hagrid, what are you doing? We have plenty of time to unpack."

"He begged to come, and I didn't want Dumbledore to know I took him. I didn't really ask permission yeh know." After opening the hatches, a small creature flew forward gasping for air.

"You want to kill Dobby! Not rescue!"

"Dobby!" Harry shouted. He hadn't seen him all year long.

"I found him stealing my socks a while back. I told him he could stay with me at Hogwarts and I'd give him lots of socks. But since we can't be living there now, I brought him here. I hope yeh don't mind."

"Of course not. So, it's the three of us. No one else I should know about?"

"That's it. Hey, lookie here." Hagrid pointed at a plague on the door as Dobby rushed into the house and began turning it upside down for socks. Hagrid dusted a part of the wood and continued, "We better change it."

"Change what?" Harry leaned forward and read an engraved plague. "House of the Black." Harry smirked a bit. "No, leave it."

Hagrid nodded and pushed aside his suitcase blocking the door. He walked in, bending his head to fit inside. Slowly, Harry followed him, trying not to remember the bad memories of Sirius, his horrible death. Being in his home was a constant reminder of that. But also, a reminder of the family he had and the family he still has, as Hermione told him. Harry turned slightly and looked at the blue sky. It was so clear, so calm, and so beautiful. He was home.

THE END

Please comment. If you liked this, there is a completed sequel called the Emerald Leaf!


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